


Bittersweet Strawberries

by blueraven1340



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:12:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueraven1340/pseuds/blueraven1340
Summary: It's a particularly hot day in Ikebukuro, so tempers are already running a little high, but what will happen when Shizuo catches Izaya in a position neither of them ever expected him to see? Nothing good, or so they think.





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Izaya, would you still kill me if you had the chance?”

Shizuo heard Izaya turn to face him, the sheets sliding and shifting in the dark.

“What kind of question is that, Shizu-chan?” he said, laughing softly. “Of course I would.”

Shizuo turned to face him too, to see those brown eyes that glowed red in the moonlight. “Would you kill me right now?” he asked.

Izaya rolled his red eyes. “I'm butt-naked in your house, trapped between you and the wall. I'm at a distinct disadvantage here, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo felt him freeze. “Why?” he continued, trying to smirk, the word a little too harsh to be joking. “You're not thinking of killing me right now, are you? Now that's hardly fair, not when I've treated Shizu-chan so well tonight~”

Shizuo tried not to laugh, since Izaya wasn't trying to be funny. Not really. Only the sheer weirdness of this urge kept him from acting on it. Normally, anything Izaya said, especially when he used that mocking tone, irritated the crap out of him and made him want to hit things. Hit Izaya. Now, his words were making him smile and want to laugh. Shizuo reached his hand up to ruffle Izaya's hair, not missing the way Izaya flinched a little at the touch. His hair was soft, as always.

“I'm not going to kill you right after we – ” _made love_ “ – had sex,” Shizuo said. “That's sick.”

“Right? So stop asking stupid questions and go to sleep already.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said, watching as Izaya closed his eyes, not bothering – or not willing – to turn his back on Shizuo again. “Good night.”

“Nighty night.”

 

It started several months ago. Shizuo, Tom, and Varona were making their rounds as usual, but it was a relatively lazy Sunday. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and the birds were chirping feebly, trying to ward off the blistering heat. The whiny jackasses they usually dealt with probably didn't feel up to arguing with them that day, too worn out by the seeping intensity of the sun.

So, they ended up reaching their last client a little earlier than usual, everyone in high spirits. They were looking forward to an early dinner, Tom's treat.

Tom knocked on the apartment door.

And knocked. And knocked. And knocked.

And knocked.

“Hello?” Tom finally called out. “Anyone home?”

“Perhaps they have derived the meaning of our presence and fled the premises,” Varona suggested quietly.

“Nah, we would've heard if someone was climbing out the window or something,” Tom said, eyeing the door. “It's dead quiet out here.”

“Your logic is quite sound, Tom-san. I retract my previous assumption.”

“You really think someone's in there, Tom-san?” Shizuo said. He really wanted to get this over with and grab dinner already.

“You know as well as I do how stubborn they can be.”

Shizuo grimaced with agreement. After a moment, he put his ear to the door. “Actually...I think I hear someone in there,” he said. He tried knocking. “Oi! Open up! We know you're in there!” Still no answer. He waited a few seconds and then tried again, knocking louder. “C'mon we're not going to hurt you! Hurry up and open the door already, it's fucking hot out – !”  
The door suddenly caved inward, falling into the hallway entrance with a large groan. Tom sighed. Shizuo ignored him.

Shizuo ignored him instead of apologizing, which he was more used to doing nowadays. Shizuo didn't even lower his upraised fist or move to enter the now-accessible apartment.  
No, Shizuo just stood there, his eyes wide underneath his sunglasses, his skin perhaps a shade paler.

Shizuo just stood there, staring.

“Hey!” one of the guys said – the tall one with bleached hair – “That's my door!”

“How perceptive of you, Ichigo-san,” the smaller one said – the one without a shirt, the one with his belt unbuckled, the one who was holding a knife to the taller one while blushing a shade of red Shizuo felt like he had never seen before, and definitely not on _him_.

Orihara Izaya.

What the _fuck_?

 

Shinichi Ichigo. A rather unfortunate name, thought Izaya, amused. Twenty-five and tall, with oddly light brown eyes and cheap, bleached hair. The boy had fallen off the deep end, let pride get the best of him as he sold his life to gambling rings and, interestingly, male prostitutes. Even though Shinichi-san was just in his mid-twenties, he was drowning in debt, and – if Izaya's guess was correct – he had recently turned to more underhanded methods to try and swim his way out of it.

What an easy human to manipulate.

With these thoughts, Izaya found himself in Ikebukuro on its hottest day in five years, knocking politely on Shinichi-san's shabby apartment door. It took a few tries, three increasingly irritating minutes to be exact, before the bastard finally opened the door. Didn't he know just how _hot_ it was out here?

“I told you, I'll have the money next – ”

Ichigo paused, opening the door wider as he looked Izaya up and down. “Who're you?” he said.

Izaya smiled. “My name is Kanra-san. I'm here to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime deal, Shinichi Ichigo-san. May I come in?”

“I – wha – ”

Pushing him aside, Izaya strolled right into the run-down apartment, carefully not reacting to the lingering stench of souring milk and human fear.

“How do you know my name?” Ichigo demanded, slamming the door shut.

Izaya passed the small excuse for a kitchen and stopped to turn around once he reached the living room/bedroom. “I know a lot of things, Ichigo-san,” he said, inwardly despairing that he didn't have his jacket because of the hot weather. He didn't know where to put his hands.

“I know, for example, that you come from a moderately wealthy family,” he continued, deciding to keep his hands in the front pocket of his jeans for now. “I know you have two older brothers and parents who always expected more from them than they did of you. I know you nearly failed out of high school, but made it to college in Ikebukuro, only to actually failed out of that. Too ashamed to face your family, I know you ran away from home and tried to make it in the real world, only to fail at that too. I know you only let me inside because I'm just your type,” Izaya stepped closer to him, relishing in that shocked face.

“I know the first thing you thought of when you saw me was that you'd like to push me down on that cheap tatami mat and force me to my knees so that I could suck you off until you came in my mouth. I know you want to see me swallow your cum and that you want to hear me moan your name. You want me naked, writhing on your floor, you want to kiss me, taste me, touch me, and ram your dick inside of me until you make me scream, and then you want me to beg for more.” Izaya was so close now he could count the stubble on the man's chin. “Am I wrong?”

Izaya saw him swallow.

“N-no...”

Just as Ichigo started to lean forward, Izaya took a swift step back. “But fortunately for you, there is still one piece of information in your possession that I desire.” Izaya leaned against the wall behind him. He looked up, eyes half-lidded, lips smiling.“When you tell me, you will, of course, be well compensated.”

Ichigo was practically drooling. “What do you want to know?”

“Next what?”

“...huh?”

Izaya got off the wall. “When you opened the door for me earlier, you said you'll have the money, next...?”

“Oh, um, next week.”

“So soon! What's happening next week, Ichigo-san?”

“My friend is, uh, going to give me some money.”

“What nice friends Ichigo-san has, giving you _so_ much money, just like _that_.”

Ichigo licked his lips. “Yeah...yeah, they're nice.”

Izaya let the silence hang in the humid air between them, waiting and watching as saltwater trickled down from Ichigo's scalp onto the floor. Finally, Izaya nodded. “I see. Well, it was nice meeting you, Ichigo-san. I do apologize for barging in so suddenly, but if there's nothing else – ”

“Wait – wha – Kanra-san!”

Ichigo made to grab at Izaya's arm, but Izaya stepped swiftly to the side. “Yes?”

“I answered your question,” Ichigo said, his voice pleading.

Izaya kept his disappointed face on, smiling only on the inside. “Yes, you did, Ichigo-san, and thank you for that. But you also lied to me, and I don't make deals with liars.”

Ichigo looked distraught. “I didn't lie!”

Izaya sighed, shaking his head as he started for the front entrance.

“I mean – okay, my friend isn't just gonna hand over the cash, I-I'm giving him something too.”

Izaya looked back at Ichigo, stopping. “'Something'? Is it possible that you're the one giving out sexual favors for money now? Maybe Ichigo-san is the type that can top _and_ bottom...”

“No!” Ichigo cried out, making Izaya raise and eyebrow. “It's drugs, okay? I'm selling him drugs.”

“And who gave you the drugs, hm?”

“Just another friend. Why?”

“Why? I'm a curious neko, Ichigo-san. And Ichigo-san has a lot of friends...maybe I want to be his friend too...”

Ichigo stepped closer. “I don't have a lot of friends like you, Kanra-san.”

“Oh stop, you're making me blush.” Izaya leaned against the wall just across from the 'kitchen'. “What's your friend's name?”

“Tanaka Rei.” Ichigo grabbed for Izaya's arm again, and, on a whim, Izaya let him.

“Rei-chan, how cute!”

“Not as cute as you.”

Any reply Izaya could have had to that was cut off as Ichigo kissed him, his mouth open and breath hot, his hands pulling Izaya so close their sweat-soaked shirts clung together. Izaya paused for only a split-second, until he found himself grinding against Ichigo, kissing back with interest, only gasping for air when Ichigo peeled off Izaya's shirt, running his hot hands over Izaya's skin. Hungrily, Ichigo leaned down to bite his nipples.

“Tsk – careful,” Izaya said, gripping Ichigo's hair so hard he knew it hurt. “I'm not a chew-toy.”

Ichigo let his nipple go, only to blow cool air on it and flick it with his tongue. Izaya shivered.

Izaya didn't stop Ichigo as he started unbuckling his belt, only urging him on with kisses and harsh breaths.

And then someone started knocking on the door.

“Shouldn't you get that?” Izaya muttered.

“Probably just debt collectors, don't worry about it.” Ichigo shoved his hand down Izaya's pants, effectively shaking away the vague worry that crept up in Izaya's mind at the words 'debt collectors.'  
Ichigo took one of Izaya's hands, shoving it down his own pants. “C'mon,” Ichigo breathed. “Me too.”

They both started jerking each other off, ignoring the increasingly loud knocks coming from the door just feet away from them.

“Hello?” someone finally said. “Anyone home?”

Izaya froze. That voice sounded familiar...

“Hey, why'd you stop?” Ichigo said, irritated.

“Let go,” Izaya replied. “I need to leave.”

“What the fuck? Right now?”

More murmurs from the other side of the door.

“Yes, right now. Get off.” Izaya retrieved his hand, only to have it slammed into the wall by his head.

“What, you chickening out just 'cause I got some visitors?”

Ichigo thumbed Izaya's slit, making him jerk. “Ngh – fuck – just let go!”

The visitor started knocking again, this time more forceful.

“Oi! Open up!” a different voice said – a voice Izaya would have recognized anywhere.

Izaya struggled in earnest this time, but Ichigo just ducked his head and started to suck on Izaya's neck, keeping his hand down Izaya's pants.

“Get the fuck off of me!”

Annoyed, exasperated, Izaya took his knife out from the back pocket of his jeans and slashed the hand on his dick.

Ichigo let go. “The fuck – !”

The door crashed open at the same time, accompanied by Shizuo complaining about something – maybe the weather – until he stopped talking completely.

“Hey,” Ichigo said. “That's my door!”

“How perceptive of you, Ichigo-san,” Izaya bit back, breathless.

The three of them stood there, Izaya with his knife at Ichigo's throat, Ichigo staring stupidly at the knife, and Shizuo just staring and staring.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, hitching on a smile. “What an unpleasant surprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So, this is my first fanfic. I just finished publishing it on fanfiction.com, but someone recommended that I post it here too! It starts out light, but gets a little angsty later on. Please just read it through and let me know what you think! :D


	2. Chapter 2

They were in Izaya's apartment tonight, Shinjuku reduced to a mass of shimmering, blinking lights that stood brighter than the stars. Neither Izaya nor Shizuo were paying attention to this, however. They were sitting on a couch in the living room, drunk.

“I am _not_ like Scar, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo pointed to the TV screen, which was showing the end credits for _The Lion King_ – not that they had paid attention for most of it. “Yes you are!” Shizuo argued. “He's all – all evil and stuff, like you.” For some reason, this made him start laughing.

Izaya laughed too. “Okay, okay, but I'm an _informant_ , Shizu-chan – no, listen – ”

Shizuo ruffled Izaya's hair, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head, smiling at the familiar scent. Shizuo must smell like that too, he realized, since he had showered earlier at Izaya's place. But Izaya was different, Izaya smelled like Izaya.

Why did that make him so ridiculously happy?

“See, I don't want to be a king, I – I'm not like Simba or Musafa – I'm like – haha, stop that tickles! – I-I'm a god – haha!”

Shizuo kept running his hands along Izaya's sides, tickling where he usually went to pleasure. He kissed Izaya's exposed stomach, blowing on it to make fart sounds, his lips and cheeks vibrating. Izaya kept laughing, the sound somehow heady, somehow different.

Shizuo climbed over Izaya, so that he could see his face. Izaya was smiling, face flushed from drinking and from laughing, the expression on it completely open, for once. He looked adorable. He looked breathtaking.

_I love you_ , Shizuo suddenly wanted to say. The words were almost on his lips, but Izaya reached up and kissed him right then, stealing the words away.

It was a deep kiss, though brief. Izaya pulled away abruptly to reach up and whisper in Shizuo's ear.

“Don't look at me like that.”

Shizuo immediately pulled back to look at Izaya. “Like what?”

“Like that.” Izaya reached up to trail his fingertips down from Shizuo's temple to his chin. The touch felt ghostly, too distant, not enough. “Like...like you don't hate me.”

“But you look like that too,” Shizuo said. He kissed Izaya softly, loving the way those lips felt against his.

“I do?”

Shizuo kissed him again. “Yup.”

“Must be 'cause we're drunk.”

“Maybe.”

Izaya made a noise as Shizuo kept on teasing him with a shower of light kisses. “Shizu-chan,” _kiss_ , “haha,” _kiss,_ “stop,” _kiss,_ “kiss me for real...”

Shizuo moved his kisses to Izaya's nose, his eyes, all over his face, until Izaya was half-laughing, half-squirming, raining down complaints, then suddenly, Shizuo moved back to kiss Izaya's mouth, stopping him mid-sentence.

Izaya immediately parted his lips, letting Shizuo in, and Shizuo did not hesitate to run his tongue beside Izaya's, their teeth clacking every now and then with the messiness of the kiss. It wasn't like Shizuo cared – even though it was probably his fault – what mattered was that Izaya was clinging to him like there was nothing else in the world worth clinging to, worth thinking about, worth loving.

Izaya ran his tongue over Shizuo's lip before chomping down it, biting hard because he knew Shizuo could take it. Shizuo groaned, pushing Izaya's shirt up, letting his fingers run familiar, tingling paths along that hot skin. Izaya freely touched Shizuo too, sinking his nails into his back, scratching at him like a cat. They were soon wiggling out of their pajama bottoms, a mini-race to see who could do it the fastest – Shizuo ended up ripping his – and somehow they ended up on the floor, Izaya on top, riding Shizuo with a balance he managed to maintain even when buzzed with lust and too much alcohol.

“Sh-Shizu-chan,” Izaya gasped. Shizuo leaned up to kiss him, almost causing Izaya to actually lose balance. “Shizuo...”

“Izaya.”

 

“...pai...enpai – Shizuo-senpai!”

Shizuo blinked. Tom and Varona were staring at him from across the table. They were in Russia Sushi, in one of the private booths, eating the dinner that Tom had promised to buy. Shizuo had been spacing out for quite some time, judging by how much food the other two had managed to keep down. Maybe because the heat was keeping out customers, but Simon had pushed an abnormally extravagant show of dishes this time, the best option being some kind of neon green thing that actually bounced when Tom accidentally dropped it. Anyway, it all tasted the same to Shizuo right then. Maybe smoking was finally getting to him.

Suddenly, he needed nicotine. “I'll be right back,” Shizuo muttered.

Tom and Vorona let him leave, only exchanging worried looks that Shizuo chose to ignore.

Outside, sucking in the bitter taste of his usual brand, Shizuo finally found himself relaxing. _Okay_ , he thought – calmly, calmly – _so the flea's gay. Or bi. Whatever. What do I care? Doesn't have anything to do with me. Shit, what's more surprising is that there're people out there who would do_ that _with the flea. Well, I guess it's not so surprising. He always had those girls following him around at Raijin, guess some people go for the skinny type...the evil, manipulating son-of-a-bitch type that makes a living out of ruining peoples lives, and “skinny” my ass, he's just fucking scrawny, doesn't he ever eat anything? I bet he just eats those stupid conbini-bentos, idiot, that's why he almost let that Ichigo bastard do whatever he was gonna do, he's too fucking skinny, fuck what if he didn't have his knife, what if the bastard got him naked –_

Shizuo exhaled sharply. He shouldn't think about that. Really, he shouldn't be thinking about Izaya at all. That flea already took up too much of his life – he didn't need to be there in Shizuo's thoughts as well.

“Hey.”

Shizuo looked around. “Tom-san,” he said. “Where's Varona?”

“She hung back to talk to Simon and them.” Tom joined Shizuo at the side of the entrance, leaning on the wall as people passed them by. They stood there like that for a couple minutes, enjoying the silence. Finally, Tom spoke up.

“You okay?” he asked.

Shizuo breathed out a cloud of smoke. “Yeah,” he said. “I'm alright.”

“You sure? Because I'm here if you need someone to talk to.”

Shizuo smiled. “Thanks, Tom-san. But it's not like I'm traumatized or something. I mean, the flea surprised me, that's for sure, but I wouldn't let something like that get to me.”

“Maybe it wasn't what it looked like,” Tom said. Then after a pause, “You should talk to him, Shizuo.”

Shizuo looked at Tom. “Why the hell should I talk to the flea?” he said.

Tom looked back at Shizuo. “Well, you guys are going out, right?”

Shizuo dropped his cigarette.

“WHAT?!”

 

Izaya made it back to his apartment in record time. Unlocking his door actually took a little longer than usual – for some reason, his hands wouldn't stay still – but eventually he made it through there too. Once inside, Izaya made a beeline for his couch and plopped down, face-first.

“I suppose I'll take that to mean the meeting didn't go well?”

Izaya grimaced into the cushions. After a moment, he sat up, leaning his arms on the back of the couch to face Namie, who sat at her desk looking bored.

“The meeting went very well, thank you very much,” Izaya said, smirking. “I'm just tired from having to deal with a stupid beast who happened to show up while I was in Ikebukuro. That and it's like a million degrees out there! Namie, give me some iced tea~”

“I'm not a vending machine, Orihara-san.”

“A good thing too, or Shizu-chan might just chuck you out the window. I don't care what, just get me something cold to drink. Or are you not my employee either?”

Sighing, Namie got up, albeit not without throwing Izaya a dirty look.

“Scary~”

Namie rolled her eyes. “Someone's in a bad mood,” she muttered.

Izaya ignored her. He fell back on the couch, lying down with his arm over his eyes. Truthfully, Izaya really was tired. He'd practically sprinted out of the place, leaving Shizu-chan, Ichigo, and everyone else behind in varying states of bewilderment. The imagined shock on their faces amused Izaya for a second, but then he remembered the actual shock on Shizu-chan's face.

Out of all the people in Ikebukuro, it just _had_ to have been Shizu-chan who caught Izaya getting down and dirty with someone named after _strawberries._ Izaya didn't just feel tired, he felt sick. It was a Sunday for god's sake, and nearly 40 degrees out there! Why the fuck was Shizu-chan working?

Well, Izaya was one to talk, but being an informant was a 24/7 kind of job. And technically, Izaya wasn't exactly working at that point...

It left a bad taste in his mouth, not only getting blue-balled by Shizu-chan, but also the fact that he'd mixed business with pleasure. Of course, Izaya blurred the line sometimes – really, only every now and then – but he didn't like to. Reputation was everything for an informant. If people started whispering that Orihara Izaya was offering his ass up for every morsel of information, he would never be taken seriously by anyone again, especially the yakuza. Sure, he'd teased Ichigo-san, but he wasn't _actually_ going to sleep with him. He'd had the cash ready for transfer. Izaya chalked it up to the fact that it had been a while, a little over a year maybe...a year. Really, a year? Had it _really_ been that long?

_I'll kill Shizu-chan for this,_ he thought darkly. _For real this time_.

For now... Izaya accepted a cup of ice cold water from Namie with a cheery “thank you!” that did not reach his eyes. He then walked over to his desk, ready to dig up everything he could on a Mr. Tanaka Rei.

Blue-balled or not, the show must go on, ne?

 


	3. Chapter 3

Izaya watched as Shizuo flipped a pancake with expert ease.

“I'm not a slut, Shizu-chan,” Izaya complained, noting the slight frown on Shizuo's face. “I bet whatever number you're thinking is way too high to even be possible. There aren't _that_ many gay men in Tokyo, you know.”

“Like I said, I don't. fucking. care. Can't we just eat breakfast in goddamn peace and quiet for once?”

“It was just a question, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, the words coming out a lot more serious than he had intended them to. He tried smiling again. “I'll tell you how many guys _I_ think _you've_ slept with~”

“Izaya...” Shizuo growled, turning to face him.

“In fact, I don't think, I _know._ ” Izaya laughed, jumping up to sit on one of the kitchen counters. “I'm the only one, right?” he said.

Shizuo stopped glaring, instead looking at him strangely. “Yeah,” he said, turning back around to put the pancake on a plate. “You're the only one.”

 _I knew it!_ Izaya wanted to say, but for some reason, he couldn't. He stared at those reddening ears, those hands that accidentally burned themselves on the pan and knocked into everything with a sudden clumsiness. Somehow, he couldn't find the words.

“C'mon,” Shizuo said, carrying two plates piled high with delicious-smelling pancakes. “Get off the counter if you want breakfast, Izaya.”

Izaya opened his mouth. “You're the only one too,” he said.

Shizuo's golden-brown eyes looked at him. “What?”

“For now,” he added, wondering why he was still talking. “For now, you're the only one for me too.”

Shizuo stared. Then, quietly, he put the pancakes back by the stove.

“Shizu – ?” Izaya started as he came closer, but then Shizuo's lips were on his, and Izaya leaned into the touch, inhaling, tasting, the curious mix of mint and cigarettes. Izaya wrapped his legs around Shizuo and pulled himself closer as the kiss deepened, the world slowly melting into nothing but lips, tongues, flesh, hands. Izaya gasped when Shizuo lifted him up off the counter.

“The pancakes...” Izaya breathed.

Shizuo headed towards the bedroom – he really was a stickler about doing it anywhere else in his apartment.

“We'll microwave them,” he said.

Izaya laughed.

 

 

Shizuo walked the streets of Ikebukuro, the end of his cigarette slowly growing brighter with the falling shadows of sunset. He exhaled languidly, thinking of his conversation with Tom the other week. It still bothered him.

“WHAT?!” Shizuo had said, dropping his cigarette.

Tom took a step back and put his hands up. “Look, I know you guys probably want to keep it under wraps, but I'm just saying, if you need someone to talk to – ”

“WE'RE NOT GOING OUT!”

Tom put his hands down, eyes wide. “Really?” he said.

“Yes really!” Shizuo yelled, trembling from the effort of trying not to punch something. “Why the fuck would you think that?! He's the flea! He's Orihara fucking Izaya! _I hate him!_ ”

“Well, you guys haven't been fighting as much recently, so when I heard, it just seemed to make sense,” Tom said, shrugging.

“Tch.” Shizuo lit up another cigarette to try and calm himself down, not missing the way Tom had edged a little away from him. He exhaled gray smoke, letting the nicotine run through his system. “Why the fuck would something like that _ever_ –“ he started. “Wait, who the fuck told you the flea and I were dating?”

“Varona.”

“What – why would Varona – ?!”

“She heard it from Simon who overheard Kadota and them talking about it,” Tom explained quickly. “Dunno where they got it from though.”

“Why the fuck would they – “ Shizuo started, but then he stopped again, sighing. “Whatever,” he growled. “It doesn't make sense. It's the complete opposite of sense. It's fucking disgusting. I'd rather kill myself than ever go out with that evil piece of shit – no, I'd rather kill _him._ Well, I would kill him anyway just for all the shit he's put me through, but I would kill him even more.”

And that was that.

Shizuo had just brushed it off then, not wanting to talk about it anymore, but ever since, that stupid rumor seemed to be the only thing he could think about.

He blew out another cloud of smoke into the darkening night.

Shizuo had considered that maybe Izaya had been the one to start the rumor, but in this one case, he felt that he could rule out the flea's influence. If there was one thing he could be sure about when it came to the flea, it was that he hated Shizuo just as much as Shizuo hated him. Why the fuck would he want people to think they actually liked each other enough to start dating?

 _Maybe this is that one percent the flea was talking about,_ Shizuo thought, smiling grimly. Still, Shizuo couldn't rule him out completely. Nothing was impossible, especially when it came to that bastard flea.

He'd certainly proven that the other day...

 _The door crumpled under his touch, and Shizuo saw Izaya bring his knife up to some man's throat, pressing hard enough that blood dribbled down his neck, staining his shirt. The color of that man's hair was the same as Shizuo's, but this was just a passing thought to the image of_ him. _Izaya. Half-naked, jeans riding so low Shizuo could see his jutting hip bone. His lips looked wet and red, just like his nipples, and his hair was wild, just like the look in his eyes. The blond man said something, but Shizuo could only register those red lips as they moved, frowned, glistened, said his name..._

“Tch.” Shizuo dropped his cigarette, stamping it out angrily. Why the fuck was he still thinking about this?

He really needed to stop.

But Shizuo couldn't deny that he had been thinking about the pest more often than not lately. Why was that? Shizuo scowled. It was the flea's fault. Everything was always the flea's fault. Why the fuck did he have to be there? Didn't Shizuo tell him to stay the hell out of Ikebukuro?

Shizuo sighed, taking out another cigarette. Maybe he'll stay put this time.

He took a drag.

Somehow, the thought didn't comfort him.

 

 

“Tanaka Rei is one of Kazuhiro Junichi's men,” Izaya started as he settled himself into the backseat of Shiki's car. “He had been moving independently for some time, but Kazuhiro-san started to suspect what he was doing several months ago. So he put a tail on Tanaka-san; although, not a very good one. He let Tanaka-san slip right out from under his nose, right after he stole a considerable amount of D2 that Tanaka-san is now distributing for his own advantage. Kazuhiro-san is, of course, searching quite desperately for the man, all the while managing to keep the whole thing quiet from the higher ups in Awakusu-kai. As you now know.”

“Do have an idea of where this Tanaka-san might be?” Shiki said, staring calmly at his fingers.

Izaya looked out the window, watching as people after people blurred by. “He moves base every few weeks, but right now, he's working from an Internet cafe in East Ikebukuro called 'Van.' He just checked in two days ago, so he shouldn't be leaving anytime soon.”

Shiki uncrossed his fingers. “Thank you, Orihara-san. Thorough, as always.”

Izaya looked away from the window to Shiki, smiling as he held out his hand. “I appreciate the compliment, Shiki-san. But you know I work for more than just pretty words.”

“You say that, but you don't really do it for the money either, do you?” Shiki said dryly, handing over the brown envelope.

Izaya opened it, counting the cash. “They say it's money that makes the world go round, Shiki-san,” he replied. Once he'd confirmed the amount, he tucked it into his back pocket. “Do you ever wonder why that is?”

Shiki smiled his amused smile, a scar that fit too well on his humorless face. “Because it's true?”

Izaya smiled as well. “You're half-right,” he said. He looked out the window again. “They say it because people want to _think_ it's true. The world that humans live in is weaved together by threads that always get tangled up into ugly knots that no one ever wants to look at, nevertheless acknowledge. So they make it simple, they make up their own versions of the world that have clear-cut facts like 'life's not fair' and 'money makes the world go round.' Whether those 'facts' are actually true or not is irrelevant. What matters is whether or not they are willing to swallow it. If they are, then 'facts' become truths, and any evidence to the contrary is automatically put to the side, making life a simpler and easier place to live in.”

Shiki's voice was quiet. “Are you saying I'm simple, Orihara-san?”

“No,” Izaya replied. “I'm saying you're human.”

Shiki remained silent for the space of a red light. “By the way,” he said as the car started to move again. “I heard an interesting rumor the other day.”

Izaya looked at him. “Oh?” he said. “Do tell. You know how much I love rumors, Shiki-san.”

Shiki stared back at Izaya, his gaze level and unreadable. “Apparently, you and Heiwajima-san are fucking each other,” he said.

Izaya stared at him for a second, taking it in. Then he burst out laughing.

“It's not true then.”

Izaya wiped his eyes, holding his ribs like they would spontaneously burst out of his body. “N-no,” he gasped. “Of course not.” He held back another wave of laughter and then coughed, smiling.

“I would _never_ let a monster like Shizu-chan anywhere near my ass, and the feeling's mutual. Just the thought of it...” Izaya let out a small laugh, unable to help himself. “But why would Shiki-san involve himself in something so trivial as my sex life?” He sharpened his smile. “Jealous?”

“I was a big part of it back then,” Shiki replied, unfazed. “Naturally, I'd be curious.”

Izaya managed to keep his smile. “Well,” he said. “I might be adventurous, but bestiality is just taking it a step too far.”

Shiki chuckled, a dry cough of a laugh. “Fucking around with the yakuza is more than just 'adventurous', Orihara-san.”

“I wasn't 'fucking around with the yakuza',” he said, almost pleasantly. “I was only sleeping with you.”

“And I'm not yakuza?”

“I never said you weren't; I was only debating your word choices. Anyway, I seem to remember us agreeing that our little time together never happened?”

Shiki smiled. “You brought it up first. Izaya.”

Izaya dropped his smile. “It was only because you suggested something so utterly disgusting, _Shiki-san_. Seriously, Shizu-chan? I would sooner fuck my hand for the rest of my life than do anything with that thing.”

“Is that what you're doing nowadays? Pumping your own dick and playing with your own ass because you can't close your mouth long enough to get anyone to actually look at you?”

Izaya felt his eye twitch, but he kept his tone light. “I didn't say that. Either way, what I do with my dick and my ass is none of your business, Shiki-san.”

“But you'd tell me if I made it my business?”

Taken aback, Izaya stared at Shiki. He looked old, suddenly. Still powerful, of course, in the way dead kings were. He was a ghost that could whisper words to faceless people, nameless people who sliced open throats in the night. But he was still lined, gray, tired of the world in the way Izaya wasn't and didn't want to be. He couldn't excite Izaya in the way he used to, when Izaya saw him and saw raw energy, a life that throbbed against his fingertips.

In an unbearably aching moment, Izaya felt longing wash over him. A longing for sex that reminded him of why he needed to breathe, that there was life pumping through his veins. He wanted to touch something golden, young, and viciously raw. He wanted to close his eyes and know that in the darkness, he would not die.

“No,” he said. “I didn't say that either.”

Right then, the car rolled to a stop in front of Izaya's apartment complex. Too purposeful to be coincidental. “I see,” said Shiki, staring back at Izaya with a look that he had not seen in half a decade. “Then that will be all, Orihara-san. Thank you again for all your hard work.”

“It was no problem at all, Shiki-san.”

Izaya got out of the car, watching as it drove away, the money in his back pocket as warm as an old man's hand.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The streets were empty. This wasn't impossible; it wasn't Ikebukuro. They were in Shinjuku, in the dead of night, in clothes as nondescript as Izaya could make them. Still, to Shizuo, it was like they were shouting something out, yelling happy words or even screaming them, loud enough that someone, somewhere could hear.

They were holding hands. It was ridiculous, and Shizuo knew Izaya thought so too. But it also meant something more, at least to Shizuo. Their fingers were linked together as they strolled boldly through public spaces, and yes, they were disguised, and yes, it was 3 AM, but still. They didn't even hold hands during sex.

“Are you satisfied yet, Shizu-chan?” Izaya said, after they'd stepped off an empty crosswalk. “Or were you planning to wander around Shinjuku until daybreak? It really doesn't get any more interesting than this, you know.”

Shizuo smiled. “Like I said, I just wanted to take a walk. It doesn't really matter where we are.”

Shizuo looked over to see Izaya raise an eyebrow at the word “we.” His small hand twitched in Shizuo's big one.

“Okay,” he said. “Well, we've walked and talked and smelled the roses. If you're really planning to stretch this out until I start seeing salarymen, I'm heading back by myself.”

“Are you that eager to get me into bed?” Shizuo said, snorting.

Izaya glared. “I'm that eager to get _me_ into bed. We've been at this for over an hour, Shizu-chan. I'm exhausted.”

“This isn't enough to make you even a little bit tired, Izaya.”

“It is when it's like,” Izaya checked his phone, which looked chock-full of notifications, “3:12 AM. I don't know if you heard, but regular humans usually sleep during this time of night.”

“You'd be up doing god knows what anyway,” Shizuo said, clicking his tongue. “Seriously, do you ever sleep?”

Izaya laughed, his irritation apparently sliding instantly off his face. “I swear, you ask the stupidest questions.”

“Well?” Shizuo pressed. “Do you?”

“I'm not a monster like you,” Izaya said, laughter still in his voice. “Of course I sleep. What, did you think I could just keep myself awake 24 hours, seven days a week, out of sheer force of will? I would if I could, but unfortunately, caffeine and other choice drugs can only do so much. Besides, sleep has been shown to be significant in the process of consolidating memories, which is rather important for an informant. I've also heard that you go crazy after passing a certain number of days without sleep. I acknowledge that I'm not the most sane person in the world, but I cross the line at hallucinating shit. Reality is exciting enough, at least for now.”

Izaya kicked an empty water bottle. They listened to the hollow clatter as it bounced down the sidewalk, watching idly as it rolled into the empty street.

“There are also some people who think that dreams are actually visions of another version of yourself in an alternate universe,” he continued. “Now, isn't that interesting? If that were true, what happens when you and your alternate self are sleeping at the same time? Unless, your alternate self doesn't require sleep, which, if we're speaking of an alternate universe with completely different laws, could be possible. But if not, what if your alternate self dreamed of a different alternate self in another alternate universe, leading to an infinite chain of alternate universes, and therefore an infinite chain of selves? What would that mean for our decisions in this universe? Put another way, if you choose to save someone in one universe but end up killing them in another, why save them at all? Unless we are all predestined to act a certain way in any one universe, which means that we should just act as we see fit. Morals don't come into the equation; it would all be a matter of universal balance, where every decision has to be played out somewhere, at sometime. If you think the situation calls for that person to be saved, then save him. If you think he should die, then go ahead and kill him. It's all as the universe wills it.”

“That would suck,” Shizuo said.

“Wouldn't it?” Izaya replied, smiling up at him. “Free will would be an illusion, our sense of self a lie. And what would that mean for the afterlife? Do your good selves go to Heaven, and your bad selves go to Hell, or any other strain thereof? Unless Heaven and Hell themselves are simply just another universe, pointing towards a kind of reincarnation, where all the universes are actually circular, and we all lead immortal lives that jump between the never-ending chain of universes. Which is all great and good, but that would mean that humans are just sheep, herded along in this great circle by the circle itself. And indeed, Shizuo, in your wise words, that would very much suck.”

“You know it was a yes or no question, right?” Shizuo said, chuckling. “And for the record, you are definitely crazy.”

Izaya started swinging their hands back and forth, like a child. “I guess I am,” Izaya replied. “I'm here with you, aren't I?”

Shizuo let their hands swing between them for a few paces, chuckling at the innocent joy of seeing their arms go back and forth, back and forth, their knot of fingers the pendulum. But as they reached a yellow streetlamp, Shizuo tugged their hands back towards himself. He kissed the back of Izaya's softly, with a smile. “Thank you,” he said, staring at the surprise in Izaya's eyes. “For being here with me.”

Shizuo couldn't read the look on Izaya's face. It was illuminated in the harsh, yellow glow of artificial light, painting more shadows there than Shizuo was used to seeing. Like this, he was harshly beautiful, all edges and bones and sharp eyes. But Shizuo knew just how soft those lips could be.

He wasn't talking, which always made Shizuo feel a little triumphant, but also a little uneasy. Those dark-brown eyes were just looking on in silence, calculating Izaya's next move using variables that Shizuo couldn't see. That was what made silences like these goddamn frustrating too. They showed just how much Shizuo didn't understand about him, this person he loved.

But how much did Izaya understand about Shizuo? Could he see, somehow, that Shizuo not only lusted after him, but loved him too?

It was there, and pretty obviously too, if only Izaya was willing to see.

“Shizuo.” Izaya didn't have a smile on his face anymore. Only a familiar intensity. “Let's go back,” he said. “Now.”

Shizuo nodded. “Yeah.”

They rushed back only to make it as far as the closest alleyway, ripping their clothes off with a fervor Shizuo could only call desperation.

 

 

Shizuo didn't think. Not that he usually had coherent thoughts whenever he was chasing the flea, other than _killkillkillkillkillkill_ but this time, it seemed that he was thinking even less.

The stupid pest showed up randomly earlier that day. Maybe because of the last time Shizuo had seen him, or the goddamn rumor that Tom had gotten stuck in his mind, but the sight of Izaya riled him up to his combustion point even faster than normal, if that were possible. The anger in his system remained longer than usual, that was for sure. Every time he thought he was flagging, Izaya would suddenly burst out laughing, taunting him with words like, “Ready to give up yet, Shizu-chan?”

That's how they ended up in some condemned building, panting with exhaustion, drenched with sweat because goddamn it, it was fucking October already, why was it still so hot?

Maybe because they were so close together.

Izaya had tripped on a fallen beam, although with how he looked now his legs would have probably given out either way. Shizuo, seeing his chance, had jumped and pinned the flea to the floor.

Now they were in an awkward position that Shizuo right then and there, vowed he would never tell anyone about, not even Celty.

“What are you doing?” Izaya said, his lips chapped, his skin flushed. “Just get it over with. Don't start acting like a human now, beast.”

“I _am_ a human, flea,” Shizuo growled.

“A+ performance, Shizu-chan. You almost got me there for a second. I would applaud you, but seeing as how you're currently breaking my wrists with that brute strength of yours...”

Shizuo automatically loosened his hold, but he did not let go.

“Do you _want_ me to kill you, you stupid flea?”

“It would suck to die, of course. But if I could prove with my death once and for all that you are indeed a monster, then that means I win and you lose. And I would give up pretty much anything for that.”

Shizuo stared. “Even your life?”

“It would be heroic too, don't you think?” Izaya said, laughing dryly. “There aren't many chances in this lifetime to die in an epic one-on-one fight with your sworn enemy. If I had it my way, of course, I would be dying much, much later. There are still some things I would like to do, after all, but this way isn't too bad either.”

“You're crazy,” Shizuo declared, after a short pause.

“Life is more interesting that way.” Izaya's hands clenched into fists. “Anyway, are you going to do it, or not? This is starting to get a bit uncomfortable.”

Shizuo tightened his hands around those tiny wrists, a red anger rekindling behind his eyes. Why was he being so fucking annoying about all this? Did he really want to die?

“Izaya,” Shizuo started, leaning down a little. Then he stopped. What was that? Leaning his body back a little, Shizuo looked down. His brain seemed to jam. No. No way. That was what he thought it was. Right?

“Are you _hard_?” he asked.

That pale skin was plenty flushed already, but now Shizuo could see it reach all the way to his ears.

“It doesn't have anything to do with you or this situation, if that's what you're thinking,” Izaya said, rather quickly. “It's just the adrenaline and a lot of other complicated biology stuff that your stupid pea-sized brain wouldn't understand. What's important is that it has nothing to do with what's going on right now, but like I said, it is a little uncomfortable to be like this, so before things get any more awkward, either kill me already or get the fuck off.”

Izaya was getting redder by the second, and he wasn't looking at Shizuo anymore. He was looking off to the side, the pulse in his wrists racing, his whole skin on fire, down to his exposed collarbone.

Ever since that stupid summer day, that skin, those eyes, his voice, had been playing on the edges of Shizuo's fantasies in an almost-unconscious litany. He dreamed of that flushed face, that teasing hip bone. He caught himself, sometimes, wondering what those lips would feel like against his own, and he had come more than once to the thought of having that slim body in his arms.

And now, Izaya was right there, underneath him, aroused for whatever God-given reason. If there was anything Shizuo was feeling right now, it definitely was not anger.

He didn't think. He acted.

 

 

Ichigo had been surprised to see Izaya again, and a little angry, but it wasn't like Izaya really wanted to see him either. He had to trek all the way from his apartment in Shinjuku back to Ikebukuro, just so he wouldn't raise Shiki-san's suspicions. He was going to be suspicious anyway, if all went well, but there was no harm in playing it safe for now.

Well, except for all that travel time. Izaya sighed. He really did go through a lot, sometimes, for his stupid, lovely humans.

“Kanra-san,” Ichigo said when he opened the door. It had been almost three months since Izaya had last visited. The fact that this man still remembered his (fake) name made him feel a little better. See, Shiki-san, Izaya wanted to say. There are still young, virile men out there who would love to fuck me.

It sounded petty even in his own mind.

“Ichigo-san,” Izaya said, shaking off his thoughts with a smile. “I believe we had some unfinished business.”

Izaya offered Ichigo the money upfront this time, not interested in going through that whole, rather traumatic, ordeal again. Having accumulated some money of his own now, Ichigo was still a little unsatisfied, but money was money. When it came down to it, it was always good to have more.

Izaya didn't come for information this time either, but rather, to give it up. He said the cash was a thanks and an apology for three months ago, but really, it was to smooth things out between them, to build rapport. He did not need Ichigo wasting time doubting Izaya's words.

“Are you sure?” Ichigo said anyway.

“I am,” Izaya answered, patiently. “I learned about it when I was looking into Rei-chan myself. I'm not sure where he is right now, but apparently they're going to raid the place he's staying at. They're going to bring down his whole operation, Ichigo-san.”

“Oh shit,” Ichigo said, running a hand through his hair. He paced his small room, muttering, “Shit shit shit shit _shit_.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Izaya said, not because he wanted to help, of course, but because that seemed to be what people liked to hear at times like these.

Ichigo took a breath. “No...no, I need to call him, warn him...”

Izaya resisted a smile.

Bingo.

Afterwards, Izaya left with a somber goodbye and a skip to his step. Of course, the strawberry man had been a little bit too easy, but Izaya could at least be satisfied with a job well done.

At least, until Shizu-chan showed up.

Did the brute stalk Ichigo's apartment or something?

They entered into the chase, although Izaya was especially keen to try to escape as fast as possible today, since he didn't need Shiki-san finding out he was back in Ikebukuro and subsequently wondering what the hell he was doing. Unfortunately, Shizuo seemed especially determined not to let him get away.

 _Stupid Shizu-chan_ , Izaya thought bitterly as he dodged a passing trash can. He was always so unpredictable in the worst possible ways.

At the very least, Izaya tried to lead him into more unpopulated areas, bringing them to an abandoned building off towards the sketchy parts of town. The sun was beginning to set, giving even the rusted, steel beams a soft, golden glow.

Izaya yelled out in surprise as he tripped over one of them. Shizuo didn't miss a beat and tackled him to the ground, rendering him immobile. _Great_ , Izaya thought. _Just great._

The best part was when Izaya noticed just how hard he was. He shifted uncomfortably as they talked, which only made Shizuo tighten his grip on him. This didn't help.

Then eventually, inevitably, Shizuo noticed it too.

“Are you _hard_?” he asked, shocked, like he had never seen a goddamn erection before.

Izaya gave some kind of answer, rambling as he tried not to look at Shizuo's face. This was all Shizuo's fault. If he hadn't interrupted before, Izaya would have actually satisfied his libido some, and then it wouldn't be acting out like this, in the worst possible situation ever. It was all his fault, this stupid, moronic, half-wit, monster...

...that kissed harshly, recklessly, and tasted like cigarettes. Izaya's mind went blank. Never, in his wildest imagination, would he have ever expected something like this. But then again, Shizuo had never acted as Izaya ever expected him to. Izaya could not think about anything farther than acknowledging his own surprise, as he suddenly found himself kissing back. It felt automatic, like he had done it a million times before, but in the way someone out in the desert sun had once been used to A/C.

Shizuo was almost hesitant at first, but he quickly grew bolder, slipping his tongue in through Izaya's lips and moving his hands to Izaya's back, bringing him so close that Izaya could feel Shizuo's own erection grinding against his. The friction of their lips split open Izaya's chapped ones. The taste of iron filled their mouths, but Shizuo just licked his wounds, wrenching out sounds from Izaya that he didn't bother to keep quiet.

Shizuo pulled back first, but Izaya gripped his hair so that he couldn't go too far. They were panting again, but this was oh so different. Shizuo had course hair, which was a given considering how long he'd been bleaching it, but Izaya liked the way he could feel it shift against his fingers, the way it glowed in the fading sunlight.

“Don't stop,” he said.

Shizuo squeezed him, one of his hands burning hot on a sliver of bared skin. “Are you sure?” he replied.

Izaya reached up and removed his sunglasses. Shizuo's eyes were brown, but lighter than Izaya's own. In the orange sun, they were a deep amber, shot through with streaks of gold. The sunglasses clattered to the cement floor as Izaya guided Shizuo back down.

“No,” he whispered.

Shizuo laughed against his lips.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“I slept with someone.”

Izaya kept his gaze level on Shizuo, gauging his reaction with careful eyes. The restaurant was crowded. Red and orange lights filtered calmly through the dimness; it was Chinese-themed. Izaya wasn't really a fan of Chinese food, but they were in Yokohama tonight, the local Chinatown. There was little other choice. They were sitting at a table separated into a booth by two screens made of wood and paper. Izaya could see tiny holes in the screen behind Shizuo, probably made from children's fingers.

But what he was really looking at was Shizuo's face. It was hard to see in this red-orange light, but at the same time, oddly clear. Eyebrows lowered, scrunched together, the corner of his lips slightly down. Such small indicators, really, but so telling.

A look of pain.

“Why?” Shizuo said. He wasn't looking at Izaya but at the empty plate in front of him.

“Why do anything, Shizu-chan? Because I wanted to,” Izaya answered. Of course, this wasn't strictly true. It had been related more to business than to pleasure, but Shizuo wasn't allowed to know things like that. As for the other reason...

Like hell he was going to let Shizuo know about that.

Shizuo grimaced. “No, I mean, why tell me? Why bother?”

Izaya stilled, the question traveling up his spine like an icy finger. Why tell Shizu-chan? Just the other day, he'd outright lied to Shiki when he asked about it. Why hadn't he done the same for Shizu-chan? Actually, why had Izaya brought it up in the first place? He was being stupid. He was being more than stupid.

Izaya leaned onto the table. “I thought you should know,” he said, trying too hard to keep his voice light, as smooth as rain. “We might be mortal enemies, but we do fuck each other every now and then. It's just common courtesy. What if I got an STI? ”

Finally, Shizuo looked up. “Did you?”

“Of course not,” Izaya said, smiling. “I'm just saying. You'd want to know that the possibility is there, right?”

That pained look again. But whatever he was about to say, if indeed he was going to say anything, was interrupted when their waitress came back.

“We'd like to have the bill please,” Izaya said as she picked up their plates. “Separate checks, if you don't mind.”

She smiled a glassy smile. “Sure, I'll be right back.”

Izaya looked back at Shizuo, who had not taken his eyes off of Izaya. The attention affected him like a physical thing, running its hands over Izaya's arms and neck and face like Shizuo himself had done so many times. He smiled, pushing down the sudden longing.

“So what do you want to do after this?” Izaya said. “It'd be a waste to come out all this way just to have some dinner. Maybe we could rent a hotel room and make a night of it! We could even see Sankei-en Garden tomorrow if we stay here overnight, and – ”

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, his voice tense. “Stop. Just shut the fuck up for once.”

Izaya took a breath. He hoped the dim lighting and the voices in the restaurant would hide from Shizuo just how much it hurt to take a breath. “I don't see why not,” he said. “You're not working tomorrow, right? And I've never seen Sankei-en Garden – ”

_At least, not with you._

Izaya's voice faltered.

Shizuo didn't seem to notice. “I've already been to the garden,” he said, looking at a point just behind Izaya. Maybe at one of those holes in the screen. “And I'm tired. You can stay if you want, but I'm going back home.”

Izaya opened his mouth to argue, but the waitress came back, effectively ending the conversation. They paid for their checks and left the warm, crowded restaurant in a bubble of ice-cold silence.

“I'll see you later then,” Izaya said, at the parking lot. The night sky was clear tonight, bright with a nearly full moon and the usual smattering of stars. He could probably see Shizuo's face in all this light, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to look. “Drive safe,” he continued, waving. “I wouldn't want you getting into an accident and blocking up traffic.”

Shizuo didn't move.

“You know,” he started. Izaya looked up at him, expectant – but for what? “You think you're so smart, that you're so above everyone else. It's so fucking annoying. You keep saying I'm an idiot, but you don't know how big of an idiot you are. And sometimes you do things that make me hate you. A lot of the times you do it _because_ it makes me hate you, and that's fucking annoying too. You've been a thorn in my side for over half my life, and sometimes I just want to rip you out and throw you into a tree or a building or the ocean.” Shizuo took a deep breath.

“But I can't,” he said. “I can't because I love you.”

Izaya stared, unable to think of a single thing to say back.

Shizuo didn't seem to expect any kind of reply. After saying those three words, he turned around and walked away without a kiss, without a hug, without even a goddamned smile.

Izaya just stared. Silent, for once.

 

This wasn't happening. It had been almost two weeks since that stupid, impulsive, goddamned _kiss_ , and Shizuo still could not stop thinking about it. He tried to stop. He tried desperately. He would be smoking with Tom or having a nice conversation with Celty, and then _bam!_ there was the taste of Izaya in his mouth again, _bam!_ there were the sounds of Izaya in his ears again. More than once, his friends had asked if he was okay as he yelled and threw whatever happened to be in his vicinity sky-high.

It was like the flea knew exactly what Shizuo had been thinking late at night recently, what he had been doing, and he was torturing him for it.

Shizuo wouldn't put it past him.

He ground out another cigarette in silent anger. By now, the floor of the bench he was sitting on was littered with cigarette butts, but he had needed the past couple of hours for some thoughtful fuming. Tom had let him off early after Shizuo, accidentally, injured their third client that day.

“Take some time off to clear your head, Shizuo,” he'd said. And well, that was exactly what Shizuo was doing.

But it wasn't helping.

The more he tried to clear his head, the more clouded it got with memories from that day.

Izaya, his fingers gripping Shizuo's hair so hard, he felt a few strands part with his scalp; his body, the skin softer than Shizuo had thought it would be and marred only by the occasional faint scar; his hips, moving with a maddening ease that somehow fit well with Shizuo's jerky, instinct-driven movements; and his shuddering cry, hot in Shizuo's ear as he came in his pants, just seconds before Shizuo.

Shizuo breathed in shakily from his new cigarette, feeling what he really hoped was fury.

That flea. First he showed up in front of Shizuo all half-naked, and then he fucking got hard while they were _fighting_? Who the fuck did that? Why the hell did _Izaya_ do that? Shizuo just didn't understand. Fuck, he didn't want to understand.

But what was he going to do when he saw the stupid pest again?

Shizuo had a brief flash of Izaya in his arms again, those chapped lips against his.

“NO!” Shizuo yelled out loud, causing a few nearby children to skitter away like bugs. Shizuo ignored this as he also pulled out a piece of the bench he was sitting on.

“I'm gonna kill him,” he growled. “I'll tear off his fucking lips and his stupid, girly hands, and I'll fucking – ah!”

The bench gave way as Shizuo tore out more and more pieces of wood. Shizuo fell through the metal frame, hitting his head on the iron and falling on the cement underneath. He cursed endlessly as he destroyed the rest of the frame to get out. It wasn't like he was hurt. He was just insanely livid.

The park had been emptied of all people by this point.

Well, of all people except one.

 

Izaya didn't have time to think about what the fuck had happened the other week. For now, he'd filed it away as a momentary slip of sanity on both their parts, fueled by raging hormones that got even the best of them, sometimes, and were a matter of course for Shizu-chan's life anyway.

Izaya was good at compartmentalizing. This way, he could focus on what actually mattered.

Tanaka Rei got away. He slipped through Shiki's fingers, just as they were closing in on him. Shiki suspected Izaya, of course, but as far as he knew, Izaya had no real motive for warning Tanaka about him. Tanaka was a nobody, just some underling with unhealthy ambitions. Shiki had his gut-instinct, but nothing else to go on, and since this was Izaya he was dealing with, he would do nothing, for now.

Izaya was banking on this, and he was 65% sure it wouldn't fall through.

Tanaka looked like an underling. A short, stocky man with a buzz-cut and a poorly lasered-off tattoo on one of his gorilla arms, Tanaka was neither distinctive nor too plain. He just looked like your average human, which wasn't a bad thing. In fact, it was the best.

Ichigo had set up their meeting. Tanaka had asked for it, curious about the man who had, essentially, saved his life. He probably had a healthy suspicion of Izaya as well, one that Ichigo had so idiotically (although helpfully) abandoned the first time they met. Whatever the reason, this worked well for Izaya. It saved him the trouble of asking Ichigo for another favor, the mere thought of which left a bad taste in his mouth.

They met in Ikebukuro, of course, in a dramatic sunset, in a building that had once been a hotel, and was now an abandoned mess. They met in room 304.

“Kanra-san,” Tanaka said as he walked in. He shut the door but kept his distance. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

Izaya came forward from his position by a broken window. “Likewise, Tanaka-san,” he said. “I had heard a lot about you from our mutual acquaintance.”

Tanaka came closer as well, and the look on his face screamed distrust. “You mean Ichigo? That boy is as dumb as dirt, I tell you. But well, he has his uses.”

“Yes, it was very nice of him to set up this meeting between us. I had been wanting to see you for some time.”

“Yeah? And why's that?”

“I believe I have some information that might be of interest to you, Tanaka-san,” Izaya said, placing his hands in his coat pockets.

“Information?” Tanaka echoed. “What kind of information?”

“The kind that could change your life.”

Tanaka took a step forward. “And why would you want to give me that kind of information?”

Izaya smiled. “I heard you run a business, Tanaka-san,” he said. “But considering your circumstances, I imagine your business must be facing a pretty rough patch at the moment. Now, if my information were to help you along, to get you back on your feet, let's say, I'm sure that being the kind soul you are, you would make sure that I received at least a small portion of the profits, as a thank you.”

Tanaka's small eyes got smaller. “How small would your portion be?” he said.

“Twenty percent.”

“How about no percent?”

Izaya shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. “But I am a busy man. I won't meet with you again when you change your mind later.”

“Or I beat it out of you right now,” Tanaka said, taking another step closer.

In the blink of an eye, Izaya threw one of his knives across the room, so that it caught Tanaka's ball cap and pinned it to the wall behind him. Tanaka froze.

“You could try,” Izaya said, taking out another knife and tossing it casually up into the air before catching it. “But the deal is off the minute you do.”

Tanaka swallowed. “Ten percent.”

Izaya smiled.

“Fifteen.”

 

With that settled, Izaya literally skipped off into the sunset, humming as he thought about congratulating himself with some ootoro. It was healthy to splurge every once in a while, after all.

He was walking past a park, vaguely thinking about this and about hopping over onto some swings, when he noticed it.

Shizu-chan. Struggling to get out of what looked to be a half-demolished bench, yelling an endless stream of obscenities and looking all the more angry without his sunglasses, which were cracked and abandoned on the ground.

Izaya couldn't resist. He burst out laughing, the sound doubtlessly carrying over to where Shizuo was almost out of his absolutely absurd situation, but Izaya didn't care. He only wanted to enjoy this perfect moment, when he could see the beast at its worst.

“ _I-ZA-YAAA!!!!”_ Shizuo yelled, as if Izaya had been the one to tamper with the bench.

Izaya sobered up, if only a little. At least, long enough to start running away when Shizuo stormed towards him. They ran around all over the park, an echo of the children playing tag there earlier that day, except for, of course, all the destruction of property.

Izaya could have escaped this time, but the hilarity of what he had seen held him back. “What in the world were you doing, Shizu-chan?” he kept on asking, laughing as he did so. Shizuo just roared in anger, making Izaya laugh harder.

It was almost better than ootoro.

But it got more and more difficult as the sun continued to set and darkness fell. The miscellaneous objects that used to be some sort of playground littered the park, and Izaya felt himself slowing down as he struggled to see where everything was.

Then, out of nowhere, Shizuo caught him.

Izaya felt the tug on the hood of his jacket, and he immediately slipped out of it, only to have his wrist caught by Shizuo's coarse hand.

“Hah!” Shizuo yelled triumphantly. “I got you!”

They were panting heavily, having sprinted around for a long time again. Distantly, Izaya realized that the street lamps had already been turned on.

“Congratulations, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, between breaths. “Now what?”

“What?” Shizuo said. The grip on his wrist tightened. “What do you mean, 'now what'? I'm gonna kill you.”

“Do we really have to go through all this again?” Izaya replied. Quickly, he got the knife from his back pocket with his free hand, and he slashed at the hand on his wrist. Shizuo let go. Izaya let out a sound of triumph, only for his other wrist to get caught. Shizuo twisted his grip to make Izaya drop his last knife, which fell to the ground with a somber _thump_ , and as Izaya's yell of triumph ended with a small sound of pain, Shizuo managed to grab his other arm again.

Izaya could feel the red liquid on his skin, the taste of iron in the air.

They were very close now. Shizuo smelled like dirt and grass, but also sweat and sweet cigarettes. Maybe there was a hint of mint in there too. Izaya licked his dry lips, the air feeling shallow for some reason. It was dark, but the light from the streetlamps were enough to see by, and Izaya saw, distinctly, the way Shizuo's eyes glanced down at his mouth.

The effect was electric. Izaya's breath hitched, and he couldn't help but look at Shizuo's lips too. He knew what they felt like, what they tasted like. Izaya had felt so exhausted just a second before, but now everything seemed to come alive, tingling with the sudden turn-around. Shizuo's hands tightened on his arms as they leaned a little closer.

“I'll...” Shizuo said. They were breathing the same space now, their foreheads almost touching. “I'm gonna...”

“Kill me?”

They looked at each other, blood pumping rapid-fire in their veins. They were too close now. They were not close enough.

“Yeah,” Shizuo breathed.

Izaya didn't know who started it, but they met in the middle, their lips smashing together as they tumbled down onto the ground of the ruined park.

They didn't leave until daybreak.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Shizuo had felt his blood boil a million times, anger and fury and irritation and annoyance all mixing together into a lethal mix to make him lose his mind. Shizuo hated this feeling, of course. He despised it more than anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't used to it. There was something familiar to the pain, like a bone that aches when it rains.

Whatever Shizuo was feeling right now, it was the opposite of that. Shizuo felt cold. Instead of feeling his blood burning inside of him, it felt like he had no blood at all. Maybe he didn't even have fingers, or feet, or eyes. All he knew was that he had a heart, but he was almost as certain that it was the source of all his sudden problems. If he had fingers, he would have thrust it inside his chest and taken the thing out, still beating.

It would have been less painful.

The scariest part was not knowing what to do. He had never felt this way before, he'd never not had fingers.

He walked to his car. Unlocked it. Got inside. It wasn't his car, actually. It was a rental. Shizuo had gotten a driver's license, once upon a time, but he barely ever drove. He'd never had a reason to leave Ikebukuro. Except, of course, when he used to rage into Shinjuku, looking for Izaya, hunting for him, searching. He hadn't done that in a while. He hadn't needed to because, recently, Izaya had been the one to come to him.

It made sense, in a way. Neither of them had agreed to be exclusive. They weren't a couple. They weren't even in love; at least, Izaya wasn't. What had Shizuo expected? That Izaya would willingly tie himself down to the one person he had hated and even tried to kill for the past decade? No. Maybe. The thing was, Shizuo hadn't expected that of himself either. He'd thought, vaguely, that if he could change, maybe Izaya could too.

But Izaya wasn't Shizuo. Shizuo didn't know _what_ Izaya was. He just knew that his heart beat for him. He had believed that that would be enough.

Shizuo turned on the ignition. He drove out of the parking lot. He made it back home safe and sound an hour later, without crashing.

 

 

Their first time was on a Tuesday. Ikebukuro was growing colder and oranger and more festive, Thanksgiving was in the air. Tom had offered Shizuo some time off, but Shizuo didn't mind working through the holidays. He didn't particularly have anyone he wanted to spend the day with, since Kasuka was busy with work, and he knew Tom really needed the help. Their clients tended to get especially reluctant this time of year, for some unholy reason.

It was the day before Thanksgiving. Shizuo walked into his apartment after a long day of glaring and growling and possibly popping numerous blood vessels in his forehead. He'd actually run out of cigarettes, by the end.

Shizuo toed off his shoes and headed for his kitchen. He was looking forward to sitting down with a nice, cold glass of milk and watching a movie Kasuka had sent him a few days ago.

Except, someone was already there.

“Izaya,” Shizuo growled, his hands already balling into fists. “What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”

Izaya jumped off the counter, stumbling right into Shizuo's arms. Shizuo's anger dissipated almost immediately.

Izaya laughed. “I was waiting for _you,_ Shizu-chan!” he said. He kissed Shizuo's neck, sloppily, like he was trying to eat it. There was a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter that most definitely was not there before.

Utterly confused and – although he would never admit it – a little more than intrigued by this new version of Izaya, Shizuo pried the pest off of him. He held him at arm's length. “And why the hell would you do that?” Shizuo said.

“Because,” Izaya said, smiling. “I wanna fuck. _”_

Shizuo paled. “What?”

Izaya ran his warm hands up Shizuo's arms, trying to get closer. “I _said_ ,” Izaya yelled, loud enough that Shizuo was worried his neighbors would hear, “I want to FUCK, Shizu-chan!” He giggled.

Abruptly, Izaya jumped out of Shizuo's arms and turned back to the kitchen counter. He grabbed the whiskey and then whirled around to face Shizuo with a brilliant smile.

“Look!” he said, stumbling towards Shizuo again. “I brought this! You have to drink it, Shizu-chan! I bought it special.”

Shizuo eyed him warily. “I don't drink,” he said.

“C'mon,” Izaya said. “Just for today! I want it.”

“I'm not gonna drink your stupid whiskey because you want me to,” Shizuo said, pushing the bottle away. “And you probably poisoned it or something.”

“Alcohol _is_ poison,” Izaya said, thoughtfully. “It's bitter and you die a slow and painful death if you take too much.” He smiled. “Isn't it funny? I wanted to give you poison because I want to sleep with you, not because I want to kill you.” Izaya laughed then, a full-bodied laugh that almost made him lose his grip on the bottle of whiskey. “Why the fuck did I drink it first?”

“You – what – ” Shizuo spluttered. He felt himself growing a little warmer, though it had been a cool day. “You wanted to – hold on, you were planning to get me drunk, and then _jump_ me?”

“Well, aren't you _brilliant,”_ Izaya said, rolling his eyes. “You weren't supposed to find out, you big oaf. See, thisis why I hate you.” He pushed Shizuo's chest, or tried to. Meeting resistance, Izaya just fell into him. Shizuo didn't move.

“You never do what you're supposed to! _So_ annoying. 'Cause like, who just makes out with your mortal enemy? Name one person. Who'd do the things you do? Why? You don't – you wouldn't. You won't do it, Shizu-chan. I know.”

Tentatively, Shizuo encircled Izaya's scrawny waist with his arms. “No,” he said. “You don't know, pest.”

Izaya hugged Shizuo too. “I _do_ know, beast.”

“No, you don't.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don't.”

“I do!”

“No, you don't!” Shizuo pushed Izaya back a little, so he could see his face. He was blushing, but maybe it was the whiskey. At least he had an excuse.

Before Izaya could say anything else, Shizuo kissed him. His lips weren't chapped this time, unlike all the other times when they'd made out after fighting. They were wet, and they tasted bitter, smoky, chemical. Shizuo was drinking the whiskey, after all. Izaya was still there, though, his sweat that kind of tasted like almonds; nutty, like him.

Shizuo backed Izaya into the counter. He slipped his hands underneath that black shirt usually soaked with sweat, now unusually dry, and he thumbed Izaya's nipple the way Shizuo knew he liked. The bottle shattered as it slipped from Izaya's grasp, but neither of them pulled away.

Maybe they didn't notice.

 

 

As it turned out, Tanaka was an annoying little shit. Not that it bothered Izaya; in fact, he had been expecting it. To a certain extent. No, Tanaka could be as much of a condescending, whiny, man-child as he wanted to be; the annoying part was that Izaya could do nothing about it, as of yet. He had to act out the part of the simpering, sleazy business partner, and sleazy business partners did not try to talk down the “man” in charge. Or push him in front of an oncoming train. It really wasn't hard, all things considered. It was only hard in times like these.

“And this Crimson gang, you sure it's legit?” Tanaka said, picking at something in his teeth with a chicken bone. They were in room 304 again, talking logistics over lunch, apparently. Specifically, Tanaka's lunch. He spit out something onto the floor.

“No,” Izaya said, from across the room. “But like I said, that's the point. They're freshly formed and full of dreams that you're going to provide. They have potential, of course. But they need you.”

Tanaka peered at him. Izaya stared back, his face carefully blank. After a moment, Tanaka looked away and picked up another chicken leg. “They fucking you or something?” he said around his chicken.

“Excuse me?”

“You're gay, right?” Tanaka said. “I heard from Ichigo. He's a homo too, but you know that. You guys fucked, right? Anyway, I need to know if you're that new gang's bitch, 'cause if you are, I can't trust that what you're thinking ain't what they're thinking. And I can't put my life in the hands of some green boys that don't even know the taste of a real woman. No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Izaya said, smiling. “I'm not fucking them. And either way, I can assure you that they're sufficient enough for our purposes. If they turn out to be troublesome, we can just dispose of them later.”

“An entire gang?”

“Yes. It won't be a problem.”

Izaya smirked, fingering the knife in his pocket. It _wouldn't_ be a problem. Not for him. By the look on Tanaka's face, it seemed like he'd gotten the message. His chewing slowed, if only a little.

“Fine,” Tanaka said, swallowing. “But you remember that I'm no faggot. You get your fifteen percent at the end of all this, but that's it. You hear me?”

Izaya almost burst out laughing.

 

Their meeting ended earlier than Izaya had thought it would, and feeling a little peckish himself, he decided to drop by Russia Sushi. He still hadn't treated himself with ootoro. Izaya almost stumbled over his words as he ordered this, remembering that one night.

Things had gotten a little out of hand since then. They still fought, of course, whenever Shizuo saw Izaya or Izaya felt like playing with Shizuo. They still did everything they could to express their undying hatred for each other. Nothing had changed, really.

Except, they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Izaya cringed at the way that sounded in his mind, it made him seem like some horny teenager, but it was true. After every chase, after every battle, they ended up making out in a park, in the woods, in an alleyway, in deserted buildings.

Izaya stabbed at a piece of ootoro and stuffed it in his mouth.

It was because he'd gone so long without sex. He knew this had to be the reason behind his sudden descent into utter insanity, but why in the world did it have to be _Shizu-chan_? Maybe because he'd been thinking of him so much lately? He still hadn't given up on exacting his revenge for what happened in the summer. It was just that with all the energy was putting into his plan with the Awakusu-kai, and the thousands of other things he was keeping an eye on, there hadn't been any time for it.

As he sat in Russia Sushi, though, a vague outline formed in his mind.

 _Okay_ , he said to himself. _How's this for a plan?_

With this, he could knock out two birds with one stone. Izaya grinned as he finished his ootoro.

 

Izaya gripped Shizuo's hair with one hand, the other on his bare shoulder. Their shirts had disappeared, somehow. The counter was digging into his bare back, freezing cold, making Izaya cling tighter to Shizuo. Shizuo probably felt smothered like that, with his face smushed against Izaya's chest, but Izaya didn't care. Shizuo was sucking on Izaya's nipple, swirling it with his tongue, and he could think of nothing else.

Their belts were clinking as they rubbed against each other, the ground crunching softly as they shifted over broken glass. They were kissing again, Izaya's nipple cool now, but aching.

So, the plan had gone a little awry. Izaya was a patient man, he had to be to do what he did, but apparently, Izaya knew nothing about himself when it came to Shizuo. While waiting in his apartment, Izaya got extremely impatient. He ruffled through everything Shizuo had – which wasn't much – and he flicked through some TV channels, but he just couldn't sit still. He had cracked open the whiskey to calm himself down, at first.

Now, Shizuo was sober and collected, and Izaya was drunk and desperate. In this moment, he was so desperate he would have gone down on his knees and begged, or did other things. But he knew Shizuo was not going to move forward, no matter what he said. Then again, Izaya had gotten him this far.

Quickly, Izaya slid his hands down to Shizuo's belt, fumbling with overly warm hands to undo it, but as expected, Shizuo placed his hands on Izaya's, stopping him.

“Wait,” he said, pulling away.

“Shizuo,” Izaya breathed. He looked at those golden eyes, dark with lust. “Please.”

Shizuo ducked down to kiss Izaya's forehead, breathing quickly. “Izaya,” he said. “I – I've never – I don't know how to do it with you. I want to make sure you feel good, but I don't...”

“First time for everything.”

“But – ”

“Don't worry about it,” Izaya said, planting a quick kiss on Shizuo's neck. “I've already taken care of myself. All you have to do is put on a condom and stick it in; it'll be just like doing a girl. Okay?”

Shizuo leaned back again, and Izaya almost lost it. Then Shizuo kissed him, gently, his hands sliding up Izaya's arms.

“Okay,” he said. Izaya cheered and wrapped his arms around Shizuo's shoulders. Shizuo chuckled. “Okay,” he repeated, “but you're not a girl, idiot. I don't wanna hurt you, so tell me if you feel uncomfortable.”

Izaya stilled for a second, taken aback. Then he burst out laughing.

“What?” Shizuo said, when he didn't stop. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because!” Izaya managed to say. He rested his head on Shizuo's shoulder. Shizuo let him. “I can't keep up. Everything you do, it's so unexpected. Even this! I had it all planned out, and then you...” Izaya laughed a little. “You say you don't want to hurt me.”

“Isn't that normal?” Shizuo said, after a small pause.

“No,” Izaya said. “I don't think so.”

Izaya felt Shizuo smiling. “Then do you _want_ me to hurt you?” he whispered. He kissed Izaya's neck. “'Cause I can, if that's what you want.”

Shizuo traveled up Izaya's neck to the back of his ear, licking and nipping at where he knew Izaya was most sensitive. Izaya shivered, his breath quickening.

“No,” he muttered, pushing closer. “I don't want you to hurt me.” Abruptly, Izaya grabbed Shizuo by the hair and forced his head back. Izaya kiss him on harshly on the mouth, biting, sucking, until they couldn't breathe. They pulled apart, panting. “But I'll kill you if you try to be gentle.”

Shizuo pulled Izaya closer.

“Deal,” he said.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Shizuo walked into his apartment, exhausted. It had been almost a month since he'd last seen Izaya. It had been the longest time they'd spent apart since the first time they slept together, and Shizuo felt the loneliness like a shadow. A constant companion, an inadequate replacement for the man he loved.

He toed his shoes off and headed towards the kitchen, thinking of dinner.

Then he froze.

Slowly, he turned towards the couch in the living room, knowing, as if by instinct, what he would find there.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, waving lazily. “Long time no see.”

Shizuo wanted to throw something at him. Himself, possibly.

Instead, he said, “What the fuck are you doing here, Izaya?”

“Now that's no way to greet a mortal enemy,” Izaya said, smirking. “Or your ex-fuck buddy. It really has been a while; why don't you offer me some tea?”

“I'm not giving you any of my fucking tea,” Shizuo growled, pointedly ignoring the rest of Izaya's words.

Izaya shrugged. “Well, I know you don't have any anyway, so I guess it's a moot point. Let's just settle for you sitting down and us having a civil conversation. I didn't come all this way for nothing, you know.”

Scowling, Shizuo sat down on his couch, making sure to sit as far away from Izaya as possible. Due to the size of the couch and the fact that Izaya was sitting right in the middle of it, this left about two inches of space between them. Shizuo tried to breathe.

“Just shut the fuck up and tell me want you want,” he said.

“You know I can't do both of those things at the same time, right?” Izaya said, chuckling.

Shizuo wanted to run his hands through that soft, brown hair and kiss that smiling mouth. “You know what I mean,” he growled. “Just spit it out already.”

“I seem to remember that you like it better when I swallow.”

“Izaya!” Shizuo yelled, leaning in to punch or kiss that laughing face, he didn't know. He just stopped when Izaya leaned forward too.

“I have a proposition, Shizuo.”

The name shot through his body, electric. Shizuo leaned back. “What?” he said.

“Proposition: noun, the act of offering or suggesting something to be considered, accepted, adopted, or done.”

“I know what proposition means!” Shizuo snapped. Internally, he thought, _he probably memorized the definition word for word, just to have this moment._ Shizuo nearly smiled. _Idiot._

“Good,” Izaya said, smiling. “Then you should understand what I'm about to say next.”

They sat silent for a heartbeat, expressions unreadable.

Izaya broke the silence. “I thought about what you said,” he said, his voice clear, unwavering. “And I've come to the conclusion that you're wrong.”

Shizuo blinked. “Wrong?”

“Yup!” Izaya said. “Wrong. See, you don't realize this, but _you're_ the stupid one, Shizu-chan. There is no way you can love me after so many years of hating me. You barely know me, for one. For another, I'm the embodiment of everything you hate: I'm excited by violence, I would do just about anything to get what I want, and my profession involves ruining people's lives. You've been blinded to this by the fact that you've been sleeping with me. You don't want to consider the possibility that you'd be willing to fuck someone that you hate, so naturally, you've convinced yourself that you're in love with me. This has been helped along by the chemicals that get released whenever we have sex, positively reinforcing you into thinking that I myself am the thing that's making you feel good, when, in fact, you could get the same result by hiring a prostitute or finding yourself a good old-fashioned one-night stand. Of course, you're also stupidly loyal. Couple that with the public perception that sex equates to love, and you'd probably 'fall in love' with any person you have sex with. In short, you're wrong, I'm right, as usual.”

Shizuo stared. Even though they were the closest that they'd been in weeks, Izaya suddenly felt so far away. There was nothing he could say, he knew, to convince Izaya that he was wrong. He loved Izaya. Everyday, he felt it in his indestructible bones, and that wasn't something Izaya could just explain away. But this stupid theory was what Izaya wanted to believe, and maybe it was better that way.

“Whatever,” Shizuo muttered, sighing. “I'm starving. Just go away so I can eat.”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Izaya scowl. “I put a lot of thought into this, Shizu-chan,” he said. “The least you can do is show some gratitude.”

“For what?” Shizuo said, looking back, incredulous.

“Isn't it obvious?” Izaya said, looking just as surprised, and just as frustrated. “For saving you from the torment of having to love your worst enemy! Isn't it comforting to know that you'd been wrong all along? That you can just go back to hating me?”

“But I don't want to hate you! I want to _be_ with you! Why is that so hard to understand?”

Izaya scoffed, not quite able to hide the way he wouldn't look at Shizuo. “Lust and love aren't the same thing,” he said. “You're just such a developmentally stunted moron that you can't tell the difference. But there is a difference. You just can't love me; it's not possible.”

“Don't tell me what I can do.” Shizuo put his head in his hands, unable to look at Izaya either. He sighed. “Is it because you don't love me?” he said, voice a little muffled. “You don't have to hang around just because I said I love you, Izaya. In fact, don't. Not if you don't love me back.”

Abruptly, Izaya grabbed Shizuo's wrist, moving his hand away so that Shizuo had to look at Izaya's face. He looked tired, which was actually pretty normal for him, but right then, he wasn't trying to cover it up with a smile. His dark brown eyes were looking at Shizuo with something like desperation, a kind of misplaced determination.

“Stop saying that,” he said, fiercely.

“Then don't look at me like that,” Shizuo said.

Izaya sighed, his hand still on Shizuo's wrist. “Look,” he said. “All I'm saying is that we have to stop having sex. Then you can go back to hating me, and things will go back to normal.”

“It's been a month since we stopped,” Shizuo said. He smiled, bitterly. “Nothing's changed.”

Izaya let go of Shizuo. “Yes, I can see that. But lucky for you, I've prepared for this.” He smiled now, though he still looked tired. “I'm moving into your apartment.”

Shizuo gaped. “What?”

“For a limited time, of course,” Izaya continued, as if he hadn't heard him. “But no sex; we'll be keeping our hands to ourselves. This way, you'll see just how wrong you were about me, and we can go back to the way things were! Perfect, right?”

No, not perfect! Shizuo wanted to say. Having to spend every day looking at Izaya, talking to him, knowing that he was actively trying to make Shizuo stop loving him? The perfect torture, maybe.

But.

It had been agonizing, going through this last month without Izaya. How many times had he thought about just giving up and taking the bullet train to Shinjuku? Just to catch a glimpse? It was ridiculous; he had spent the majority of his life being perfectly fine with no one else beside him, with no one to hold close at night. Now, it felt like he was rapidly running out of air. Izaya had left him at the bottom of the ocean, and he had no way out.

But now he did. It was going hurt like hell, but so what? He would take that over drowning any day.

Slowly, Shizuo nodded. “Okay,” he said. “You can move in.”

Izaya laughed, some of the tiredness lifting from his shoulders. He cheered and, stretching, he rested his head on Shizuo's shoulder.

“You'll thank me for this later, Shizuo,” he said. “I promise.”

Shizuo rested his head on Izaya's, closing his eyes at the smell of Izaya's hair and the feel of it on his cheek. “Yeah,” he said. “Whatever.”

 

 

He was addicted. There was no other way to describe this unnatural relationship that had sprung up between him and Izaya. Hell, Shizuo had always known he lacked self-control. He despised himself for it, and he despised himself for this now.

Every time he touched Izaya, every time Izaya made him laugh, every single goddamn time he just looked at Izaya and caught himself smiling was a black moment in the History of Time. Why in the world did the _flea_ have to be so...cute?

He did not just think that.

[Something on your mind, Shizuo?]

Shizuo looked at the familiar phone in front of his face, and he smiled. “Nah,” he said. “It's nothing.”

Celty looked over, her head cocked to the side. They were standing near an overhead bridge, Shizuo leaning against the wall and Celty against her trusty bike. For the past half hour, they had not exchanged two words, and it was peaceful. Celty was the calm that Shizuo needed, after the storm that was Izaya. But now he'd made her worried, by somehow letting on that there had been a storm.

[Are you sure?]

Shizuo blew out a cloud of smoke, the gray illuminated by passing headlights.

“Yeah, the flea has just been getting on my nerves lately,” Shizuo said. “Nothing to worry about.”

[I heard from Shinra. Are you guys doing okay?]

Shizuo gaped at the phone. She heard from Shinra? That, what, that they were...doing whatever they were doing? How the hell did he know?

Izaya. Of course. They'd never agreed that they wouldn't tell anyone; honestly, they never really talked much about anything, but who just went and told someone something like that?! If Shizuo wasn't going to kill the flea before, he was definitely going to now.

Worried by the look on Shizuo's face, Celty typed something else on her phone.

[Is it that bad?]

Shizuo inhaled deeply from his cigarette, letting the smoke gather in his lungs. He blew out. “No, it's just...I didn't want anyone to know.”

[Why not?]

Shizuo laughed, bitter like smoke. “Because he's Orihara fucking Izaya! You know what he does, Celty; what he is! I must be going insane or – I don't know. You know what he said the other day? He said he would never sell brats because that'd be _boring._ Who says that? God, what's wrong with him? What's wrong with me?”

[I know what you mean. But there must be some good sides to him, if you're willing to date him even a just little. And he's friends with Shinra.]

Shizuo almost choked on his cigarette. “We're not dating!” he said. Celty cocked her head again. “We're just...” He sighed. “We're just sleeping together.”

Celty stilled, pausing for a few seconds. Then she started typing again.

[Do you love him?]

Shizuo actually did choke on his cigarette this time. Celty patted his back as he hacked and heaved.

“No,” Shizuo managed to say, wheezing. “I don't – love – him.”

Celty waited a few seconds for Shizuo to calm down before she asked her next question.

[Then why are you sleeping with him?]

Shizuo sighed, taking out another cigarette. It felt comforting between his fingers, even though he'd just choked on the last one.

“Believe me,” he said, putting it in his mouth. “I want to know too.”

 

Shizuo thought about this conversation later that night, as he watched Izaya eat. They were in his apartment, having dinner in the living room as the TV droned on about local news.

Izaya was fixated on the screen, only toying with his spaghetti as he sunk in information about gang wars and a new shop around the corner. He always did this. If Shizuo ever managed to convince him to stay for dinner or for breakfast, Izaya would just sit like this, taking a few bites and nothing else.

It wasn't like Shizuo was a bad cook. He could make a few simple dishes, like spaghetti or pancakes, and it didn't taste bad, in his humble opinion. The flea just got distracted easily. Food, apparently, wasn't something that could hold his attention.

This made Shizuo worry, sometimes. And this worry worried Shizuo even more.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, shaking off his thoughts. He nudged his bony shoulder. “Stop looking at the TV and eat your food.”

“I can do both at the same time, Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, smirking a little. He didn't look away. “It's not like people eat with their eyes.”

“Well, you're not eating.”

“Yes, I am,” Izaya said. He moved his fork for the first time in at least ten minutes and slurped up exactly two noodles. He still didn't look away.

Scowling, Shizuo grabbed the remote and switched off the TV.

“Hey, I was watching that!” Izaya whined, finally looking at Shizuo.

Shizuo took a bite of his spaghetti.“Yeah?” he said. “Now you aren't.”

Izaya held out his hand. “Give me the remote.”

“No.”

Slowly, Izaya put his plate on the table, as if he were handling a bomb. He looked over, face blank. “Give it to me, Shizuo.”

Shizuo felt himself smiling. “Come and get it, Izaya.”

Izaya pounced. The couch, their clothes, and even their hair got slathered in noodles and marinara sauce, but they didn't break anything, which Shizuo was secretly thankful for. Izaya even got a few more bites of dinner in; he'd seemed much more eager when it was on Shizuo. Now they were in bed, after a long shower, Izaya sleeping and Shizuo watching.

Did he love him?

Shizuo thought about Izaya giving him a blowjob in the bathroom. He thought about Izaya laughing at something he'd seen on TV. His brown eyes, his smooth skin, his chirpy voice, his sharp warmth. Shizuo looked at Izaya as he slept, his face relaxed, open. He looked cute, beautiful, innocent. Shizuo leaned closer to kiss his forehead, and maybe Izaya smiled a little at the touch. Shizuo closed his eyes, sighing.

Would it be that bad if he did?

 

 

The teapot whistled in the kitchen, an annoying, shrieking sound. Smiling, Izaya stood up to get it. He poured two cups, one for Shiki, one for himself. Izaya walked back carefully, setting down the steaming cups, and he didn't bother to offer anything. They both took their tea black. He sat back down on the couch, but Shiki was in the only armchair, at the head of the table.

“So,” Shiki said, after taking a sip. Izaya did as well, just to be courteous. It was burning hot. “What do you have for me today, Orihara-san?”

“I've tracked down the location of our dear Tanaka-san,” Izaya said, taking another sip. “It turns out he's hiding behind a new color gang that calls themselves the Crimson Shoes, for the blood they step in after killing someone, apparently. They may be new, but rumors are spreading about them already, and pretty nasty ones at that. I would hate to think of what they'll do to poor Tanaka-san, once they're done with him.”

Shiki shrugged. “I couldn't care less about what they do to him,” he said. “At this point, he's a dead man walking. Do you know where we can find this gang?”

“Rumors place them at various different sites, but three in particular.” Izaya put down his tea to number the places off with his fingers. “A decrepit hotel off in the outskirts of Ikebukuro, an old apartment complex run by a batty woman named Sakura-san, and a warehouse not far from here that's scheduled for demolition.”

“Which of these do you think is the most likely?”

Izaya pretended to think for a second. “I'd say the warehouse,” he said, nodding. “They're new and naive. Why wouldn't they choose the abandoned warehouse?”

Shiki shrugged again, putting down his teacup. “Who knows? I'll take your word for it, Izaya.”

Izaya gave him a sharp glance. “The exact locations are in this file,” he said, handing over the plain, manila envelope. “As well as the images of a few people who've been known to hang around there.”

“Any of them connected to Aozaki-san?” Shiki said as he took the envelope.

“No one, as of yet. I can look further into that for you. But if I may ask, why the interest? Aozaki-san looks over Kazuhiro-san, so Tanaka-san is his responsibility. He should be looking for Tanaka-san as well. Unless you think he's not doing his job?”

Shiki leaned forward, interlocking his fingers with a smile. “I pay you to collect information for me, not from me. So why don't you tell me how you got to know so much about the inner workings of our family, hm?”

“It's my business to know these things, Shiki-san. And sometimes, I'm simply curious.”

“Curiosity killed the cat, Izaya.”

“So I've heard,” Izaya said, leaning forward as well. “Unfortunately, I depend on my curiosity for a living. By the way, that's the second time you've addressed me informally, Shiki-san. I wonder why that is.”

“I give honor to those who deserve it.”

“And I haven't?”

“No,” Shiki said, his gaze steady as stone. “Because you dared to lie to me, Izaya-kun.”

Izaya stilled, his heart stopping or racing, he couldn't tell. He just made damn sure to keep that smile on his face. “And what, pray tell, have I lied to you about?”

“Heiwajima-san,” Shiki said. “That wasn't just a rumor, was it?”

Izaya nearly laughed out loud with relief. Shizu-chan? _That's_ what he wanted to talk about?

“You'll have to be more specific than that,” Izaya said, without missing a beat. What rumor was he talking about anyway? He mentioned one months ago, but Izaya had dismissed it as random gossip at the time. It had been ridiculous anyway, he and Shizu-chan would never –

Oh.

“Izaya, you were seen with him,” Shiki said, scoffing. “With the beast whom you so adamantly said you would never touch, nevertheless fuck. Like you said, you run a business; one that is built on trust between both parties. If you try to feed me such obvious lies, I'll be forced to doubt any information that you try to give me.”

“My private life is no concern of yours, Shiki-san, as we've established,” Izaya said smoothly. “But for the record, I didn't lie: there was nothing going on between us at the time. But 'trust between both parties' you say? How exactly did you find out about me and Shizu-chan?”

“It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I had you followed. Some might call it an occupational hazard.”

Izaya did laugh this time, recrossing his legs. “Of course, I'm used to having third-rate investigators trying to track down my activities. The underground isn't as trustworthy as you say, business or not. But this wasn't for business, was it?” Izaya dropped his smile, watching as Shiki leaned forward to take a casual sip of his tea, his expression unchanged. “Why exactly are you dredging this up again, Shiki-san?”

Shiki placed the saucer back on the tabletop _._ “My wife,” he said. “She's dead. She'd been fighting lung cancer for four years. Four long, hard years of chemo and remission and relapse. Much good that did her in the end.”

“My condolences.”

“Keep them. That's not what I want from you.”

“What _do_ you want from me?”

“Don't act coy, Izaya,” Shiki said, leaning closer. “Now, I loved my wife – ”

“So you say.”

Shiki glared. “I loved my wife,” he repeated. “I won't disgrace her memory by holding another woman so soon after her death. But a man can only go so long without some form of comfort.”

Despite himself, Izaya felt an old anger start to heat him from the inside out. Even now, he thought. Even after her death, Shiki was treating him like nothing but a hole to stick his dick in. Like he was cheating on his wife with some lotion and tissues.

“I told you, Shiki-san,” Izaya said. He tried to keep his voice even. “I won't sleep with you, not again.”

“Why not?” Shiki said, his thin lips pulled back into an almost-smile. “Because I hurt your feelings? Because I broke your foolish, fragile heart? It's been almost six years, Izaya. You're not that innocent little boy anymore, are you?”

“Don't be ridiculous – ”

“Then prove it.”

Shiki smiled, placing a warm hand on his knee. Izaya didn't move. Shiki moved in to kiss him and still, Izaya did nothing. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to think. No, he knew what he was thinking: Shiki was his employer. His strongest connection to the Awakusu-kai. His current scheme revolved around him, and if Izaya were to reject him now...

“Come,” Shiki commanded. He pulled Izaya onto his lap, and Izaya found himself kissing back, for wont of any better options. Some part of him remembered this. Shiki's thin and whiskery lips, his ashen, salty taste, the feel of his cold rings on his back.

Yes, Izaya had felt something for him before. Six years before. He had been a stupid little boy that played with fire and got burned. He was different now, though, and he could show it, today, on this chair, even if he'd be playing right into Shiki's hands. This time, at least, he'd be doing it with eyes wide open.

There were a few dull thuds as Shiki's rings hit the floor, and then his fingers were digging into the back of Izaya's jeans. Izaya leaned forward onto his knees, to give him better access.

Then his phone rang.

They froze. Izaya made a split-second decision. Quickly, he unwound the arms around him, and then jumped out of the chair so fast he nearly knocked over their tea. “It could be important,” Izaya said swiftly, to cover up the sudden movement. He sped over to the phone.

“Hello?” he said into the receiver, hoping to god that it actually was important.

“Yo.”

Izaya shivered, his lips burning. _Shizuo._

“Did you need something?” he managed to say.

There was a pause. Izaya could almost see Shizuo chewing over his words. It killed him. “You wanna come over tonight?” he said. “I know it's a weekday and I work tomorrow, but...yeah. You can if you want. I'm making spaghetti.”

“Yes, that sounds good. I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

Izaya closed his phone before Shizuo could say anything else. He turned around to face Shiki-san. He didn't look happy.

“I'm sorry, but it looks like something came up,” Izaya said. “So I'll be heading out, if you don't mind.”

Shiki smiled. “I do mind, but there's nothing I can do about that.”

Izaya put on his coat, hitching on a similar smile. “As for today, I'll forget it ever happened. I advise you do the same, Shiki-san. After all, we both have reputations to uphold.”

“I'll take your advice into consideration. But I advise you in turn to remember that you're still young, Izaya-kun. Don't think that you can afford to be so cocky forever.”

“Yes,” Izaya said, as he headed towards the front door. “I'll keep that in mind.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, Izaya jumped up to kiss Shizuo, wrapping his legs around his waist because he knew the beast could hold him there, no problem. “I missed you, you stupid blonde monster!” he said, smiling.

Shizuo scowled but held him up, as Izaya knew he would. “Are you drunk, flea?”

“Just kiss me. I ate something bad so I want to wash the taste away.”

“Don't kiss me if you – !”

Izaya kissed Shizuo anyway, and Shizuo didn't end up protesting too much. He did, however, peel Izaya off to actually make spaghetti, most of which Izaya didn't end up eating anyway. It didn't taste half-bad, though.

They ended up lying in Shizuo's bed, which had actually become kind of routine for them, since they were both more often in Ikebukuro than Shinjuku. Izaya tried not to think too much on that. There were already so many other, more important, things buzzing around in his mind, after all.

Shizuo broke the silence.

“Izaya,” he said. “Would you still kill me if you had the chance?”

Izaya turned towards Shizuo, laughing a little at the question. Honestly, he asked the weirdest things. “What kind of question is that, Shizu-chan? Of course I would.”

Shizuo turned too, so that they were facing each other. Izaya could reach over and kiss him if he wanted to, but those gold eyes held him in place. They were beautiful in the moonlight, objectively speaking.

“Would you kill me right now?” he said.

Izaya rolled his eyes. “I'm butt-naked in your house, trapped between you and the wall. I'm at a distinct disadvantage here, Shizu-chan.” Then he froze. Telling his mortal enemy just how vulnerable he was was a stupid move, by all accounts. A sudden image of Shizuo reared before him. _W_ _hy did you make out with that dirty, old pervert?!_ it roared.

“Why?” Izaya said, smiling as he pushed down the sudden, nonsensical, thought. _“You're_ not thinking of killing me right now, are you? Now that's hardly fair, not when I've treated Shizu-chan _so_ well tonight~”

Shizuo smiled too, but it looked much more sincere on him. He reached up suddenly, making Izaya flinch, but he only ruffled his hair, pulling them a little closer.

“I'm not going to kill you right after we had sex,” Shizuo muttered, his minty breath falling on Izaya's nose. “That's sick.”

“Right?” Izaya said. He felt relieved, for some reason. “So stop asking stupid questions and go to sleep already.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said. “Good night.”

Izaya listened to his steady breaths.

“Nighty night.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Shizuo woke up. The blue light in his room told him it was early morning, not quite dawn, not quite noon. He got out of his bed with a groan, rubbing sand from his eyes.

The shower was on.

Shizuo paused. Right. Izaya had come over yesterday with all his shit, chattering about “officially” moving in. He ran a slow hand across his face as he remembered, and sighing, he shuffled out of his room. The couch inevitably drew his eyes, the way his extra pillow and blue blanket were strewn across it, like evidence of some dirty deed.

They had argued briefly about Izaya sleeping there, but Izaya had been adamant about taking the couch. Well, they were both being stubborn about it. They'd nearly broken the couch with all the times Shizuo tried to drag Izaya out of there. Someone had to give in the end, though, or they wouldn't have been able to sleep at all.

Shizuo shuffled over to rearrange it now, folding up the blanket and putting the pillow neatly on top. They smelled like Izaya.

Shizuo headed towards the kitchen for breakfast. He'd just pulled out a bowl for cereal when Izaya walked in.

“Morning!” he chirped. His cheeks were still a little flushed from the shower, his hair still a little wet. Sometimes, he would let Shizuo dry it for him in mornings like these, just before he left. He was looking at his phone.

“Morning.”

“What's for breakfast today?”

“Cereal.”

Izaya looked up, his fingers pausing on the screen. “Just because I'm not fucking you anymore, you're gonna stop cooking for me too? I see how it is, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo took a bite of his cereal. “Yeah, glad we got that cleared up.”

Izaya stared at him. Shizuo tried to ignore him. He failed. “What?” he said, putting his spoon down.

Izaya blinked. “Oh. Nothing,” he said. He looked back down at his phone.

“No, not nothing,” Shizuo said. “You were staring at me.”

“So? That's practically what I do for a living.”

“Well, stop it. I don't like it.”

Izaya looked up again, a smile playing on his mouth. “Oh, well if Shizu-chan doesn't like it, then I _have_ to stop doing it, don't I?”

“Shut up.”

Izaya turned his phone off. “No no! Just for you, I'll make sure to never look at you again, Shizu-chan. Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable, now do we?”

“Actually, that sounds great,” Shizuo said, getting back to his cereal. “Just spend the rest of your time here on that couch and don't look at me or talk to me. Thanks.”

“Was that a joke? Are you learning to joke now, Shizu-chan?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Izaya didn't say anything.

Shizuo sighed. He needed a smoke. “Izaya,” he said, looking up. He was back on his phone. “C'mon, you gotta eat. I'll make you some eggs or something, if you don't want cereal.”

“No, I'm fine.” He put the phone in his jacket. “I have to go anyway. Places to be, people to talk to, not that you'd understand, Shizu-chan.” Izaya headed for the door, waving as he went. “See you later!”

The front door slammed shut behind him. Shizuo immediately put his head on the counter. After a few seconds, he sucked in a deep breath, and then straightened up. Abandoning his cereal, he went to find a cigarette.

He was smoking on the balcony when the doorbell rang. Cursing, he snubbed out his freshly lit cigarette, and he glared at the little man in front of him when he opened the door.

“Heiwajima Shizuo-san?” he said.

“Yeah, that's me. What do you want?”

He stuck out a clipboard. “I need you to sign for the package.”

“I didn't order anything,” Shizuo said, staring.

The courier shrugged. “It's your name on the package, sir.”

Maybe it was from Kasuka? He usually phoned before sending anything over, though. Or maybe – for some crazy reason – it was from Izaya. But what would Izaya want to give to Shizuo? Something that could make up for all the shit he'd put him through?

“Um, Heiwajima-san?”

Shizuo blinked. “Oh, um. Yeah, I'll sign for it.”

Smiling, the courier handed over the clipboard, and when he got that back, he handed over the mysterious package. It was heavier than Shizuo thought it'd be.

“Have a nice day,” the courier said.

“Yeah, you too,” Shizuo grunted.

Shizuo shut the door behind him and carried the box over to the living room. He placed it on the table, which had a crack down the middle from last night. Maybe it was materials for a new table.

Shizuo ripped open the top. He paused. Wires?

He bent down to get a closer look.

Oh, he thought, just milliseconds before it blew up. Wires.

 

 

Shizuo remembered the moment when he knew for sure, when it finally hit him that okay, this was for real.

It was a long time coming, of course. He knew that much. But just feeling it was so very different from actually knowing it.

Izaya had been working. Shizuo was sleeping over. It was the middle of the night, and Shizuo had woken up to find the bed empty. This wasn't unusual, since Izaya kept extremely weird hours, but it still left Shizuo feeling a little cold every time.

He decided to get up for a glass of water.

He shuffled downstairs, yawning. Automatically, he looked over to the one bright spot in the middle of the dark living room.

It looked like all of Izaya's computers were on, but he was staring at his phone; his face illuminated by blue light that flickered as he scrolled. He looked up when Shizuo reached the bottom step.

“Shizu-chan,” he said. “What are you doing up?”

Shizuo couldn't answer. He didn't know what it was, at first. He'd seen Izaya at that desk before, of course he had. He'd even seen Izaya up in the middle of the night typing something on his phone or doing whatever he did on his laptop. This scene wasn't anything new, but it suddenly occurred to Shizuo then, that every time he had seen that, Izaya had probably been busy ruining someone's life.

Fear. That was part of what he was feeling. Fear from the fact that Shizuo hadn't realized this sooner. Fear that stemmed from just how little he could bring himself to care.

This was because of everything else he was feeling.

Izaya was looking at him with eyes that looked red at the moment, his slight smile filled with genuine pleasure. He had a maroon blanket around him that looked almost black in the dark, and his hair, tinted with blue light, was disheveled from sleep. Shizuo just wanted to walk over and hold him in his arms, so he did. Shizuo actually lifted Izaya up out of the chair, sat himself in it, and placed Izaya on his lap.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, reproachfully. He reached over to black out all his screens. They were plunged into darkness, though gray moonlight filtered in though the windows.

“I do have to work, you know,” Izaya said. Shizuo just kissed the back of his neck, holding that skinny body closer.

He knew what this was. He'd never felt it before, but that didn't matter. The words were on his lips, in his muscles, in his bones:

 _I love you_.

Shizuo hummed as he kissed just behind Izaya's ear, nipped the outer edge.

“Shizuo,” Izaya said, laughing a little. He turned in Shizuo's lap, just enough to sneak in a kiss. “Hey,” he whispered. “Three times not enough for you?”

Shizuo chuckled. “I guess not.”

Izaya kissed him again. “Well, I'd love to, but something urgent has come up. Either we make it quick or continue in the morning.” Izaya leaned his forehead against Shizuo's. “Your call.”

“I can wait.” He was tired anyway. Honestly, he could have fallen asleep right then and there, with Izaya in his arms, close enough that he could smell his shampoo.

I love you, he thought.

“Okay,” Izaya said. He laughed, softly, and Shizuo couldn't imagine how he could have ever hated that sound. “That means you have to let go of me, Shizuo.”

Shizuo snuggled him closer. “Just a few more minutes.”

Izaya laughed again, that warm, red laugh. He ran his fingers through Shizuo's hair, gently, rhythmically. Like that, they sat together on Izaya's chair, for just a few more minutes.

 

 

Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. It wasn't the fact that one of Aozaki's underlings had walked in on them; Izaya had planned that. It wasn't that he had lied to Shiki about it; he'd already lied to him too many times to count. It couldn't be the fact that he had actually fucked Aozaki, because that had been part of the plan as well.

What was it?

Izaya walked the streets of Ikebukuro, fiddling with the knives in his pockets as he tried to come up with an answer.

Izaya had been pleased to see Aozaki roll up to his apartment of his own free will – well, his free will and some additional nudges from behind the curtain. They met up to chat every now and then after, for a full three weeks.

Aozaki, Awakusu-kai's “Blue Devil”, vehemently disapproved of the current heir to Awakusu-kai, Mikiya. Shiki disapproved of Aozaki's disapproval, since it had been the current leader, Dougen's, decision. This had fostered some antagonism between the two, which, if all went well, was nearing its breaking point.

Aozaki believed that Shiki had taken Tanaka out from under him, to discredit him. Shiki believed that Aozaki had purposefully let Tanaka go, to discredit Mikiya, who was currently acting as a temporary head due to his father's collapse the year before.

Now the both of them blamed each other for the ridiculous battle they were having against the Crimson Shoes. They wanted to extract Tanaka, of course, but they also wanted to crush the group, just for good measure. However, for a newbie gang, they had mysteriously competent fighters that seemed to come out of nowhere, and the Awakusu-kai executives blamed each other for that too.

This was the kind of stuff Izaya lived for.

Except, the high he had been feeling recently seemed to have disappeared. Or, not exactly disappeared, but solidified so that it crawled, worm-like, through his skin and in his throat.

Izaya had thought of it the day he had Shiki over for tea: what if he found out Izaya had sex with Aozaki? What better way, he mused, to pit one against the other? Shiki already hated him a little anyway. He could get that hate to bleed over to Aozaki, no problem.

So he did it. It took a lot of wheedling and acting pitiful and bashing on Shiki and some alcohol, but he did it. The underling had seen, he would do as all underlings did and spread the rumor, and Shiki would find out. It was done.

So then what was this feeling?

Izaya passed by a familiar apartment complex. He automatically looked up to see if the lights were on, but they weren't. Izaya stopped walking. He was gripping one of his knives so hard, his nails were probably breaking skin.

Shizuo.

He was going to be honest with himself. A part of him, maybe, had been freaking out. How could it not? He was sleeping with the enemy. With a beast. He hadn't lied to Shiki. Izaya honestly would have never let Shizuo fuck him. And holding hands? He would have committed himself to an insane asylum before that ever happened.

But it did happen. It was happening. He'd gone so far as to fuck Aozaki, the Blue Devil, to convince himself it _wasn't_ happening.

And now?

Standing in front of his apartment, Izaya could almost feel Shizuo on his lips, those steady arms around him. He could feel Aozaki ramming into him, he could feel that drunk breath on the back of his neck.

“No,” Izaya muttered. But the guilt flowed through him, heedless, thick, heavy and alive. Izaya gritted his teeth against it.

“No,” he said, louder. “Not for Shizu-chan. Not for anyone!”

Izaya knew. He wasn't some little kid, a fool that wandered around bumping into walls, believing that sex was all that love was. No, he knew that a lot of the times, sex was just sex. You do it, you feel good, you move on. Love – pure love – happened outside of the bedroom. It happened every time Izaya checked the latest news feed, every time he chatted with someone on a forum, every time he pushed someone to their limits. _That_ was love. Not whatever was going on between him and Shizuo.

Izaya loosened the hold on his knife. His palm ached, and he tried to focus on that. He started walking again.

No. It couldn't be. Shizu-chan? What was he thinking? They were enemies. They hated each other. Maybe they had graduated to fuck buddies, but that was it. Nothing more.

The pain eased as he got farther away from the apartment.

Yes, he thought, breathing now. There was nothing more to it. So what if he felt a little guilty? That was natural. It would pass. He'd gotten a little confused for a moment, but everything was going to be okay.

Izaya passed through the gates at the train station, holding his card with his left hand.

What was there to like about Shizu-chan anyway? He was okay-looking, Izaya could give him that. After all, he was Kasuka's brother – it must be in the genes. But other than that, nothing. He was an idiot, he was temperamental, he was a moron, he was too kind for his own good, he was rapidly giving himself lung cancer, and he was as dumb as dirt.

Izaya hopped onto the bullet train for Shinjuku, smiling. Yes. Shizuo was just a dumb brute that was fun to play with. No more, no less.

He stared at the four red crescents on his hand as the train started to move.

Next time, maybe they could go to Yokohama.

 


	9. Chapter 9

The first thing Shizuo saw was gray. He'd drifted in and out a few times before then, sure, but he hadn't recalled actually seeing anything.

Now, he could feel his eyes open and close. Gray. Black. Gray.

From the smell of antiseptic in the air, he knew this had to be a hospital. But wasn't he supposed to see white, then? It was supposed to be bright, like the light at the end of a tunnel. Why was it so dark? He didn't feel hurt anywhere, other than the dull throbbing at the back of his head. He sighed. Maybe he was dead.

“Shizuo?”

Shizuo's breath hitched.

“Izaya?” he said, but his voice came out all scratchy. He could barely recognize it as his own.

“Shizuo,” Izaya said again, and then his face was in front of him. Shizuo flinched at the sight of it.

He looked exhausted. More so than Shizuo had ever seen him. The bags under his eyes were practically black and his usually pale skin looked almost translucent. His lips were so chapped it was as if he'd never seen water in his life, and Shizuo smelled a tinge of blood, now that he was near.

“Izaya,” Shizuo managed to say. “What happened?”

Somehow, Izaya seemed to turn even paler. “Someone sent a bomb to your apartment,” he said. He cracked a smile. “It wasn't me.”

“No.” Shizuo reached a hand up to touch that pale face. The movement seemed slower than usual. “I mean, what happened to you?”

Izaya took his hand. Shizuo could feel callouses on his palms. “What?”

“I mean, look at you. You look like shit.”

Izaya laughed then, and he kissed Shizuo's hand. “Yeah, well, you kept me waiting for a long time,” he said.

“A long time?” Shizuo echoed. “What do you mean? How long was I out?”

“Let's see,” Izaya said, his voice so quiet Shizuo could barely hear. He muttered, still holding Shizuo's hand. It almost looked like he was praying. “Six weeks tomorrow. Shorter than I thought, actually.”

“What?” Shizuo felt his mouth go dry. “Six weeks?”

“Yeah. Did you know comas rarely last more than four weeks? You know, before they're officially called a vegetable. For you, it should have taken even less time to wake up. Two weeks, tops.” Shizuo watched as Izaya's hands went slowly from pale to pink to white.

Shizuo squeezed Izaya's hands back. “Oh. I'm sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry?” Izaya said. He put his head on their hands. “Thank you. For coming back.”

“Hey,” Shizuo said suddenly. He pressed his hand against Izaya's forehead. “You're burning up.”

Izaya lifted his head. “I'm fine,” he said.

“No, you're not. Have you taken any medicine? You should be lying down somewhere – I could make room here, if you want, you look like you could keel over any second. And when's the last time you slept? Are you even eating properly?”

Izaya doubled over, and for a second Shizuo thought he was hurt. Then he realized, Izaya was laughing. It was just silent, like an old film. “Are you serious?” he wheezed, looking at Shizuo. “You've been in a coma for six weeks, and you're seriously asking if I'm eating properly?”

“Well, yeah,” he said. Shizuo reached over to wipe under Izaya's eyes. “Why are you crying?”

Izaya took this hand too, intertwining their fingers. “I'm not,” he said, sniffling suspiciously. “You just made me laugh too hard.”

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, starting to smile.

Abruptly, Izaya let go. “I need to go get the nurses,” he said. He wiped the rest of his tears with his sleeve, not looking at Shizuo. “They should know that you woke up.”

Shizuo clenched his hands, feeling drained by the sudden, cold absence. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay.” Izaya walked through the dark room to a bright doorway, away from Shizuo. But then he stopped. “Shizuo,” he said, slowly. Shizuo looked over.

“Yeah?”

“Before,” he said. “When I said I didn't do it. You believed me right?”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said. He tried to look at Izaya, but he was just a silhouette against the light. “Of course I did.”

The shadow nodded his head. Then he was gone. Shizuo looked down at the hand Izaya had been holding so tightly, just seconds before. There were black smudges against the skin. It was hard to tell what exactly these were in the dark, but Shizuo knew from the smell.

He closed his eyes.

 

The next time Shizuo woke up, Izaya wasn't there. It was Celty and Shinra who greeted him, tears in their eyes – or well, Shinra's eyes – as they pushed a mixed assortment of balloons, flowers, sushi, and fortune cookies on him.

“You're a medical miracle, Shizuo!” Shinra cried. “Well, you always had been, but still! Considering the damage to your brain stem from the head trauma, we really thought that you'd never – oof!”

Shinra bent over from the blow to his stomach, muttering something along the lines of “why, Celty?” Celty ignored this and typed something on her phone.

[We're glad to have you back.]

Shizuo smiled. “Glad to be back.”

“You still have to go through rehabilitation, of course,” Shinra said, straightening back up. “You weren't out that long, all things considered, so your muscles haven't atrophied or anything. But it has been a long time since you've done any serious movement, so you'll need to stay here for a little while longer.”

Shizuo grimaced. “Can't I do that at home?” he said. “I hate hospitals.”

“Well, you could,” Shinra said, shrugging. “But it would cost a lot more. You'd need a professional to come see you pretty much every day until you got better.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup!”

[It would probably be better for you to just stay here, Shizuo. We'll come by as often as we can, too.]

Shizuo sank into his white pillow. “Well, forget rehab then. I feel fine, and I've already been here for six weeks; that can't come cheap. I could just sleep it off, like always.”

“Well, you've kind of _been_ sleeping it off. I could get you back into a coma, but I don't know how much good that would do you...”

Celty elbowed Shinra again.

[Your brother is paying for your hospital bills, so you don't have to worry about that. Just focus on getting better.]

“Kasuka?” Shizuo said, as if he had more than one brother. He smiled, ducking his head. “He didn't have to do that.” They stared. He cleared his throat. “By the way, where's Izaya?”

The two glanced at each other, and then at anything else that wasn't Shizuo.

“Izaya?” Shinra said, scratching the back of his head. “Er, I don't know, Shizuo. He was here the day they admitted you to the hospital, but we haven't really seen him around since.”

“What?” Shizuo said. He sat up a little. “But I saw him. When I first woke up. He was here.”

They both stared at Shizuo. And then they looked at each other.

“Aha!” Shinra cried, suddenly. Celty shook her head. “I knew it! See, Celty, I _told_ you it wasn't natural!” Shinra looked back at Shizuo. “Okay, so you went six weeks – _six_ _weeks_ – without growing a beard. And your hair never started smelling, and your nails never seemed to grow – I just knew it! _Someone_ had to be taking care of you. And who's the only person that could pull that off without ever letting us know?”

“What?” Shizuo said. He looked down at the hand Izaya had been holding just the other night. The nails there showed only a sliver of white. They were even shorter than before. “No. Why would Izaya...?”

No. Hadn't he made it clear before all of this? Izaya said that he didn't love Shizuo, or he might as well have. He said that he still hated him, he'd even gone and had sex with another guy. He pretty much said that it could never happen. But...

Izaya had been there. He was the first person Shizuo saw when he woke up, and he'd even cried. Shizuo could almost feel those bony fingers still wrapped around his hand.

Six weeks. Celty and Shinra hadn't really said anything, but they had clearly given up. Probably everyone had. Shizuo didn't blame Celty or Shinra or Tom or anyone else. He probably would have thought the same thing, to be perfectly honest. But the person who kept paying for his stay hadn't given up. Neither had the person who kept shaving his stubble.

Kasuka was his brother. Shizuo hadn't really expected it, but he knew why he'd done it. But Izaya? What had Izaya felt all those nights as he waited, as he clipped Shizuo's nails and washed his hair? What had he been thinking as he sat in this hospital room, clenching his fists hard enough to make himself bleed?

Shizuo clenched his own hands.“I need to see him,” he said.

“That's easier said than done,” Shinra said. “Although, he does have a tendency to show up wherever you are.”

[Can you call him?]

Shizuo shook his head. “I don't have my phone on me.”

“I could try,” Shinra said. “I don't know if he'd answer me, though.”

They all waited impatiently as Shinra dug out his phone and dialed Izaya's number.

_Ring, ring, ring..._

_Click._

“Izaya?” Shinra said, looking surprised. “No, nothing's wrong. … You know why.” Shinra laughed. “Don't act like you don't know. … He says he wants to see you. … I don't know. … Why don't you ask him yourself?”

Abruptly, Shinra handed the phone over the Shizuo. He took it with clammy hands.

“Hello?” he said.

Nothing.

“Hello?” Shizuo said again. “Hello?” He checked the phone.

“He hung up.”

“What?!” Shinra said, taking the phone again. Looking aghast, he redailed furiously.

_Ring, ring, ring..._

_Click._

_Hello! Looks like I can't make it to the phone right now. If I don't get back to you within the week, don't bother calling again because that means I'm either dead or avoiding you!_

Shinra hung up with a scowl. “That bastard,” he said. He looked up, sighing. “Do you guys have the number to any of his other phones?”

“I don't have his number memorized,” Shizuo said. “It's probably the same as yours anyway.”

Celty just shook her head.

“Maybe he _will_ die and save us the trouble of having to contact him again,” Shinra said, but then he paled at the look on Shizuo's face. “Not that I'm hoping for that or anything! He just didn't sound like he was doing so well on the phone...”

Shizuo stilled. “What?”

Celty looked back and forth from Shinra to Shizuo.

[I'm sure it's nothing] she typed quickly. [It's still a little early, maybe he was just sleeping.]

No, Shizuo thought. Izaya definitely had a fever when he visited, and even without that, he'd looked sick enough already.

His blood racing, Shizuo ripped out his IV and started to throw his blankets off. “I'm leaving,” he said.

Shinra tried to stop him, which didn't do anything, but Celty succeeded in knocking Shizuo back into the bed with a sleek, black shadow.

“No, let me go, Celty!” Shizuo growled. “I need to see him!”

[You need to rest!]

When Shizuo started struggling again, Celty shook her head.

[I'll go and see him then. You just want to check if he's doing okay, right?]

Shizuo fumed, staring at the screen. Yes, thought. But –

“No,” he said. “I have to see for myself.”

Celty started typing again, and Shizuo started straining against his binds again, but then Shinra clapped his hands, making them stop.

“Okay!” he said, smiling. “Since it doesn't seem like you'll be getting any rest either way, why don't we do this?”

They both stared as Shinra promptly left. They looked at each other, shrugged. A few minutes later, Shinra came back with a wheelchair in tow.

“This will work nicely, don't you think?”

 

 

Izaya was lying in bed. Actually, he had been for the past two or three days now, bathroom and water breaks aside. He didn't know whether he was hot or cold. Maybe hot. He knew he was sweating. He also knew he was shivering.

It didn't matter anyway.

Shizuo was alive. He was alert and talking and moving. He had said Izaya's name. At first, Izaya thought he was going crazy when he heard Shizuo sighing, but then he'd actually talked to Izaya, he'd held his hand. Izaya thought his heart would stop when Shinra called him just then, thinking something had gone wrong.

It just seemed too good to be true.

Six weeks. It had been six weeks, approximately, since that son of a bitch sent a bomb to Shizuo; four weeks since the doctors said that maybe, he would never wake up.

Izaya forgot to eat. He forgot the shower. He didn't sleep much anyway, so it didn't matter if he started sleeping less.

He just knew that he had to be there when Shizuo woke up.

At first, he did it because he had to tell Shizuo that it wasn't him. Because Izaya knew. He knew that the first thing Shizuo would think when he woke up was that it had all been Izaya's fault. That he sent the bomb to Shizuo, that he tried to kill him. It was always Izaya.

But this time, it wasn't. Izaya found out the real culprit just a few days after. Furigashi Ai – the Crimson Shoes' leader. Apparently, he'd done it as revenge. Shiki knew what had happened between Izaya and Aozaki, and that had been the last straw. They openly hated each other now, destabilizing the higher ranks in an already unstable time, so Izaya had decided that the Crimson Shoes had finished serving their purpose. Awakusu-kai had ended up crushing the gang once Izaya pulled his men out. A majority of them ended up dead or dying, including Furigashi's girlfriend, and afterwards, someone told Furigashi that it had all been Izaya's fault. Orihara Izaya, the man who was rumored to be dating the monster of Ikebukuro, Heiwajima Shizuo.

Well, an eye for an eye, he decided. A tooth for a tooth.

Furigashi was dead now. A heart attack, apparently.

So Izaya had spent nearly all his waking moments in that hospital room with Shizuo. He managed to avoid anyone who visited – because who would understand why he was there? – but the visitors lessened anyway, as time went on. He had his explanation all ready. He practiced in his head, and even out loud in the dead of night. But one week, two weeks, a month passed and Izaya started to lose his purpose. Staying with Shizuo, taking care of him, started to become less of a duty, and more of a habit.

Well, it was all over now. Izaya felt all those sleepless nights crashing down on him, and it felt good, in a way, to finally lie down and let it all play out. He would sleep it off and wake up just as Shizuo had, then they would move on with their lives.

No more talking to each other, no more holding hands, no more sleeping over, no more playing at lovers.

They were done.

Suddenly, a knock came from his bedroom door.

“Izaya?”

He scowled. How the hell did _Shinra_ get in his apartment?

"I know, I know. You're wondering how I got in right? Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with your security system, I just got the key from your assistant. Now, will you open the door?"

Izaya didn't move. No way was he walking all the way across his room to open that door. He didn't even feel like speaking.

"Izaya, I know you're in there!"

Izaya pulled the blankets tighter around him.

"Please open the door? We came all this way."

Izaya coughed.

"Celty's gonna break it down anyway, so you might as well open the door."

He covered his head with the blanket.

"Izaya," a new voice said. "Please."

That voice. Izaya would have known that voice anywhere. “Shizuo,” he whispered. Turning over, he tried to crawl out of the bed, towards the door. “Shizu – ”

He fell onto the floor, the blankets around him, and cold pain shot up from every point of contact, his brain throbbing, too large for his head.

The door slammed open not a second later, making Izaya flinch. A sound like something rolling on the floor, and then someone dropped down next to him. Izaya opened his eyes.

“Hey,” he muttered. “Long time no see.”

Shizuo took Izaya's hand, pushing back his sweat-soaked hair.

“You idiot,” he said.

Izaya coughed, clutching at Shizuo's hand. "Aren't you the idiot?" he said. "You're supposed to be resting."

"Fine," Shizuo said. "We're both idiots."

Izaya laughed, though it sounded a little more like hacking out a lung.

"Here," Shinra said, kneeling down next to Shizuo. He handed over a pill and a cup of water. "Take this. I could get an IV started for you too. You look like you need fluids, and fast."

"I can drink my fluids just fine, thanks," Izaya said, sitting up. Shizuo supported him, and through the pain, he felt something else.

"You sure? It won't take long for me to get my supplies."

He gulped down the medicine. "I'm sure."

"Well then, Shizuo make sure you both drink plenty of water, Izaya especially, and get a lot of rest. No strenuous activity of any kind, you hear me?"

Izaya gripped Shizuo's arms, trying to sit up straighter. "What?" he said. "What do you mean 'you both'?"

"I'm gonna stay here until you get better," Shizuo said, quietly.

"You can't," Izaya said immediately. "You have rehab, and what if you got worse – "

"Shinra will take care of it," Shizuo said. "There's nothing you can say to change my mind."

Oh, he thought. You wanna bet? Izaya held onto Shizuo so tightly, he could feel his nails sinking in. "I don't want you here," he hissed. "I can't focus on healing with a monster like you so close to me; you could break me in a second. And what right do you have to be here anyway?"

Shizuo opened his mouth at that, looking angry, but Shinra spoke before he could.

"Well too bad," he said. "I'm your doctor, and I'm assigning Shizuo as your nurse. There's absolutely nothing you can do about it."

Izaya thought briefly about arguing, but a wave of exhaustion crashed through him. Shizuo was affecting him, like he always did. That large warmth around Izaya, his faintly earthy scent that still smelled a little like cigarettes. When was the last time they were together like this?

Izaya relaxed. "Whatever," he mumbled.

"Good to see you accept reason for once," Shinra said dryly.

Shizuo said nothing, he only lifted Izaya slowly and placed him back on the bed. Izaya curled up with a sudden chill, but then Shizuo laid down next to him, covering them with the blankets and holding Izaya close.

"Shouldn't you sleep somewhere else?" Izaya muttered. "You'll catch whatever I have."

Shizuo kissed the top of his head. "I'll be fine."

"I'll come by and check up on you guys later," Shinra said.

"Yeah," Shizuo replied. Izaya felt the word rumble in his chest.

The door closed.

 


	10. Chapter 10

Izaya drifted into awareness. He was in his bed, which was weird, and weirder still, it was warm. It was also dark, maybe the middle of the night. Shifting, Izaya opened his eyes.

“Hey,” Shizuo said, smiling.

Oh, Izaya thought. Shizuo. Shizu-chan, Heiwajima Shizuo, right there in the flesh, smiling at him with golden eyes. Izaya reached up to trace a finger under them.

“You're really here,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Shizuo said. “It's me.”

They were close, closer than they had been in months. Right then, whatever they had gone through before was nothing, it had never happened. Shizuo was right there, alive, and even Izaya's fever was gone. He was still bone tired and kind of parched, but all the more reason to cling to Shizuo now, to revitalize himself with all the touches and words he had been missing for too long. He could deal with the consequences later.

Izaya scooted closer and kissed him. Shizuo kissed him back for a few aching moments, but then he gently pulled away.

“Izaya.”

“Shizuo.”

Shizuo took one of Izaya's hands, sighing. “How are you feeling?” he said.

“Better. A little thirsty, but the fever's gone.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He kissed Izaya's forehead, and Izaya closed his eyes at the touch. He opened them again when Shizuo moved to sit up. “Here,” he said, handing him a cup from the bedside table and a bottle of pills. “Shinra already came by. He said you should take these when you woke up.”

Izaya sat up too, with Shizuo's help. “Thanks,” he muttered. He swallowed down the pills and all of the water. “When did he come by?”

“I don't know,” Shizuo said, shrugging. “When it was still light outside.”

“I can't believe that idiot let you out of the hospital,” Izaya muttered. “He might not have taken the Hippocratic oath or anything, but he's still a doctor. What was he thinking?”

“It wasn't his fault. I said I needed to see you.”

“So? If you said you needed to run yourself through with a sword, does that mean he should let it happen?”

“No,” Shizuo said. “Because this is different.”

“How?”

“Because I love you.”

“That doesn't make any – ”

Shizuo kissed him, for real this time, holding Izaya close and opening his mouth, swallowing down his words. He ran his tongue over Izaya's lips, making them tingle, and nibbled on them, making them burn. Izaya took Shizuo's tongue and sucked on it, clambering onto Shizuo's lap. Shizuo's hands slipped under his shirt, and boiling blood rushed through every vein in Izaya's body; he wanted to continue, he wanted Shizuo in him right here, right now, but he had to pull back.

“Hold on,” he said, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes against the purple, bruise-like stars starting to pop in and out of his vision. The core of his body felt hot, burning, but his fingers were turning clammy.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, breathing a little heavily too. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just...give me a sec...”

Izaya rested his head on Shizuo's shoulder, breathing in his comforting scent as Shizuo held him in place. Softly, Shizuo started to chuckle.

“Don't,” Izaya said.

Shizuo's shoulders shook, his body trembling.

Izaya smiled. “It's not funny, Shizuo.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo said. He coughed. “But, um, was the kiss that good?”

“I'm sick!”

“Yeah.”

A moment of silence. Then, they both burst out laughing, unable to stop grinning even as their muscles started to ache and tears rolled down from their eyes. Izaya held onto Shizuo, and Shizuo held onto him; Shizuo too warm, Izaya too tired, but neither one letting go.

“God, I love you,” Izaya said, between breaths.

Shizuo's laughter petered out below him. “What?” he said.

“I – ” Izaya snuggled closer to Shizuo. “I'm tired,” he said. “Let me take a nap like this.”

Shizuo pushed Izaya back, so that they were forced to look at each other. Izaya met those warm, buttery golden eyes head-on, but not without tensing.

“What did you say?” Shizuo asked.

Izaya took a breath, looking away after all. “The truth.”

Shizuo brushed back some of Izaya's hair, placing his coarse hand on Izaya's cheek. “Well, say it again,” he said. “Izaya, say it again. Please.”

“No,” Izaya said. He brushed Shizuo's hand away. “What I feel doesn't change anything, Shizuo. It's what you feel that matters.”

“I love you – ”

“Do we have to go through this again?” Izaya snapped. “You don't really know what you feel for me yet, and even if that is love, you and I, we could never work out. We're just too different. I'm involved with the criminal underground, and you – peace is literally in your name!”

“So?” Shizuo said. “I didn't choose my name.”

Izaya scoffed. “That's not the point – ”

“Why exactly,” Shizuo said, talking over him. “Do you think we won't work out? Yeah, we're different, I know that. But I love you anyway, and you love me anyway too. What else is there?”

“Look, I know everything about you, Shizuo,” Izaya said, glaring at him. “I know things that you don't even know I know, but you? What do you know about me? I told you before. You've just been deluded – ”

Abruptly, Shizuo put a hand over Izaya's mouth.

“Shizuo!” Izaya yelled, outraged, but it only came out as a furious muffle.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said, ignoring him as he smiled slightly. “Orihara Izaya, 24 years old, you have two younger sisters who are just as weird as you are. You went to Raijin Academy for middle and high school, and you work as an informant now. In the mornings, you usually don't eat breakfast, but you like drinking coffee, and you take that black. You like ootoro, but you don't eat it a lot; actually, you don't eat a lot in general. You keep a lot of knives on you, but never more than eleven, and you wear one ring on each forefinger, which you started doing our second year of high school.”

Shizuo took his hand off Izaya's mouth, only to brush back some of Izaya's hair with it, trailing it down Izaya's arm.

“Your right nipple is more sensitive than your left one. You like it when I kiss you just behind your ears, and you like sucking me off, but you hate swallowing. You're more turned on when I do it from behind, but it also makes you uneasy because you feel more vulnerable like that. You're cautious that way, distrusting, but you're also funny and smart and cute and caring.”

“Maybe I don't know everything about you,” Shizuo said, resting his hand on the small of Izaya's back. “And maybe you're not the best person in the world, but you make me happy, just by being who you are. And maybe it won't work out. Maybe we'll end up hating each other again, I don't know. But I love you too much not to try.”

Izaya stared at Shizuo, his mouth free and slightly open. But he didn't speak. He didn't know what to say.

They loved each other. Izaya knew this for a fact, he couldn't really deny it anymore. Shizuo was more aware of his feelings than Izaya had ever realized – surprising him, as always – but this almost made everything worse, even as it made his heart beat faster and his insides glow.

He finally spoke.

“Furigashi Ai,” he said.

Shizuo blinked. “What?”

“The boy who tried to kill you,” Izaya said, speaking quickly. “He was the gang leader of the Crimson Shoes, which you might have heard of before. I used them to get something I wanted, but Furigashi-kun found out, so he sent you that bomb as revenge. Anyway, if I hadn't gotten involved – ”

“Do I look like I care about that right now?”

“You should,” Izaya said. “You got hurt because of me.”

“I've gotten hurt a lot of times because of you.”

Izaya narrowed his eyes. “And you're okay with that?”

“Yeah?” Shizuo said, shrugging. “I've hurt you too, but what does that have to do with anything? Are you worried that this Furigashi person is gonna try to kill me again?”

Izaya frowned. “No, he died a few weeks ago.”

This gave Shizuo pause. “You killed him,” he said.

“I did.” Izaya looked straight at Shizuo, daring him to say anything else.

He didn't. He just reached up and kissed Izaya, softly, surprising him yet again.

When he pulled back, he whispered, “Izaya, I love you. More than you'll ever know. So you can do what you do and say whatever you want to say, but you won't get me to walk away. Not anymore.”

Izaya sat there in Shizuo's lap, his hands on Shizuo's shoulders, breathing in Shizuo's scent. That was it. That was his last argument against whatever it was Shizuo was pushing so hard for, and Izaya was pushing so hard against. And was it so bad to want this? Even if he knew that Shizuo would get disillusioned after a year or two, even if he knew that Shizuo would be better off with pretty much anyone else, even if he knew that they were wrong for each other in so many ways. Was it that horrible to want him anyway?

Maybe it was. Maybe he was just that evil of a person. Or maybe Izaya just loved him that much.

Slowly, Izaya leaned down to kiss him.

“You won't leave me?” he whispered.

Shizuo held him so tightly, Izaya felt nothing but his arms, his legs, his body.

“Never,” he said.

**Five years later**

 

“ _IZAYA!_ ”

Shizuo threw a pillow across the apartment, only to have it bounce off of what Izaya called the “Shizu-proof” windows.

Izaya himself just dodged behind his desk, grinning, managing to look devious even while wearing nothing but a T-shirt and boxers, both of which were actually Shizuo's.

“Is that the best you can do, Shizu-chan?” he said. “Seriously though, you nearly got me that time; it's so hard to see with these glasses! How do you walk around wearing them all the time?”

“Izaya!” Shizuo growled. “Give them back already and go get dressed! We're going to be late!”

“You have to catch me first!”

Izaya sped away from his desk, laughing, but maybe Shizuo's sunglasses really were hindering him, because Shizuo hit him square in the face with another pillow, and Shizuo didn't hesitate to rush over from the couch to pin him while he was down.

“Izaya,” Shizuo said again. “Celty is my good friend, and Shinra is your _only_ friend. You are NOT making us late to their wedding.”

“It's not like they're really getting married,” Izaya said, pouting. “Why don't we just stay home? We haven't done that in a while, and we've both cleared our schedules...”

“Yeah, for the _wedding_.”

But Izaya leaned up to kiss Shizuo, and Shizuo couldn't help melting into those soft lips. Izaya opened his mouth and Shizuo took full advantage of the invitation, tasting the bitter tang of black coffee.

It really _had_ been a while.

Shizuo ran a hand through Izaya's hair, still wet from his shower, and he used the other to hold Izaya close as he arched into him.

Still, Shizuo felt obligated to mutter, “You're not even dressed...”

“Then take off these clothes for me, Shizuo,” Izaya breathed in his ear. “Help me get dressed.”

“Idiot,” Shizuo said, laughing. But he pushed Izaya's shirt off, sucking and biting his nipple as he pulled down his boxers too.

Shizuo kissed him, messily, Izaya moaning into his mouth.

“I'll get you off,” Shizuo said. He tugged a little, making Izaya jerk beneath him. “But after that you have to get ready, okay?”

“What about – ah!” Izaya dug his nails into Shizuo's new suit, dragging them across the cloth. “ – about you – ”

“I'm already dressed.”

“No,” Izaya said, laughing a little. “I mean – ngh – you too – you have to feel good too.”

Shizuo bent down to kiss him. “I can't mess up this suit,” he said.

Izaya grinned against his lips. “That won't be a problem,” he whispered.

Shizuo heard the familiar pop of a familiar bottle being opened, and he couldn't help breaking away to look at the sight of it in Izaya's hand. Shizuo nearly burst out laughing. _That_ was probably why Shizuo managed to get him earlier. He'd slowed down to grab it from the desk.

“You know I love you, right?” Shizuo said, laughing a little anyway.

Izaya smiled. “Just shut up and take off your pants.”

In the end, Shizuo did get Izaya to change, after a fashion, and they did make it to the wedding, even if Shizuo's suit got all wrinkled and Izaya didn't have time to find an extra pair of briefs.

They made it, with even a few minutes to spare. And as they stood up there on the altar with Shinra, waiting for Celty to come out, Shizuo couldn't help but look at Izaya.

After a few seconds, Izaya noticed him staring. “What?” he mouthed.

Shizuo smiled. “You look good,” he whispered.

“Idiot,” Izaya breathed, chuckling as he looked back towards the front. The music started, but Shizuo forgot to look where everyone else was looking as Izaya reached back to intertwine their fingers. Izaya sneaked a glance back at Shizuo, and he really did look beautiful then, with the open, summer sky behind him and the intricate, flowery arch just above him. His dark-brown eyes sparkled in the sun, his smile small but true.

“I love you too,” he said.

Shizuo grinned, squeezing their hands.

 


End file.
